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THE 


BOY    SLAVES 


CAPT.  MAYNE  KEID, 

AUTHOR  OF   "the  DESERT   HOME,"    "THE  OCEAN  WAIFS,  '  V'iO. 


®UIj  JUustratiotts. 


A   NEW    EDITION, 
WITH  A  MEMOIR  BY  E.   H,   STODDAED. 


NEW  YORK 

WORTHINGTOI?^  CO.,  747  BROADWAY 

1889 


^ 


Entered  accwding  to  act  of  Corgrees,  in  the  year  1852,  by 

TICKNOR    AND    FIELDS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetta. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  18S5,  by 

THOMAS    R.    KNOX    &    CO., 
in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1889,  by 

WORTHINGTON    CO., 

in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


V     •■•  »,'  ;  °     •  New  York,  January  1st,  1869. 

Messrs.  Frei.Ds, ^0|oopD  &  Co.:,— 

:,  .Vacce,Bt' t'}ie/x'r]n*oflti-e^;jnd^  J-.ereby  concede  to  j'on  the  exclusive  right 
of  publication,  in'the'tjiiiled  States,  of  all  my  juvenile  Tales  of  Adventure, 
known  as  Boys'  Novels. 

MAYNE  REID. 


laes 


iJiEirOIR  OF  MAYNE  BEID. 


Ko  one  who  has  written  books  for  the  yonng  during  the 
present  century  ever  had  so  large  a  circle  of  readers  as 
Captain  Mayne  Reid,  or  ever  was  so  well  fitted  by  circum* 
stances  to  write  the  books  by  which  he  is  chiefly  known. 
His  life,  which  was  an  adventurous  one,  was  ripened  with 
the  experience  of  two  Continents,  and  his  temperament, 
which  was  an  ardent  one,  reflected  the  traits  of  two  races. 
Irish  by  birth,  he  was  American  in  his  sympathies  with 
the  people  of  the  New  World,  whose  acquaintance  he 
inade  at  an  early  period,  among  whom  he  lived  for  years, 
and  whose  battles  he  helped  to  win.  He  was  probably 
more  familiar  with  the  Southern  and  Western  portion  of 
the  United  States  forty  years  ago  than  any  native-born 
American  of  that  time.  A  curious  interest  attaches  to  the 
life  of  Captain  Reid,  but  it  is  not  of  the  kind  that  casual 
biographers  dwell  upon.  If  he  had  written  it  himself  it 
would  have  charmed  thousands  of  readers,  who  can  now 
merely  imagine  what  it  might  have  been  from  the  glimpses 
of  it  which  they  obtain  in  his  writings.  It  was  not  passed 
in  tlie  fierce  light  of  publicity,  but  in  that  simple,  silent 
obscurity  which  is  the  lot  of  most  men,  and  is  their  hap- 
piness, if  they  only  knew  it. 

Briefly  related,  the  life  of  Captain  Reid  was  as  follows ; 
He  was  born  in  1818,  in  the  north  of  Ireland,  the  son  ol 
a  Presbyterian  clergyman,  who  was  a  type  of  the  class 
which  Goldsmith  has  described  so  freshly  in  the  "  Deserted 
Village,"  and  was  highly  thought  of  for  his  labors  among 
the  poor  of  his  neighborhood.  An  earnest,  reverent  man, 
to  whom  his  calling  was  indeed  a  sacred  one,  he  designed 
his  son  Mayne  for  the  ministry,  in  the  hope,  no  doubt, 
that  he  would  be  Lis  successor.  But  nature  had  some- 
thing to  say  about  that,  as  well  as  his  good  father.  He 
began  to  study  for  the  ministry,  but  it  was  not  long  before 


Mi5r>60 


he  was  drawn  in  another  direction.  Aluajs  a  great  reader, 
his  favorite  books  were  descriptions  of  travel  in  foreigii 
lands,  particularly  those  which  dealt  with  the  scenery, 
the  people,  and  the  resources  of  America.  The  spell  whici 
these  exercised  over  his  imagination,  joined  to  a  love  ol 
adventure  which  was  inliereut  in  his  temperament,  and 
inherited,  perhaps  with  his  race,  determined  his  career. 
At  the  age  of  twenty  he  closed  his  theological  tomes,  andf 
girding  up  his  loins  witli  a  stout  heart  he  sailed  from  the 
shores  of  the  Old  World  for  the  New.  Following  the 
spirit  in  his  feet  he  landed  at  New  Orleans,  which  was 
probably  a  more  promising  field  for  a  young  man  of  his 
talents  than  any  Northern  city,  and  was  speedily  engaged 
in  business.  The  nature  of  this  business  is  not  stated, 
further  than  it  was  that  of  a  trader ;  but  whatever  it  was 
it  obliged  this  young  Irishman  to  make  long  journeys  into 
the  interior  of  the  country,  which  was  almost  a  terra  in- 
cognita. Sparsely  settled,  where  settled  at  all,  it  was  still 
clothed  in  primeval  verdure — here  in  the  endless  reach  of 
savannas,  there  in  the  dei^th  of  pathless  woods,  and  far 
away  to  the  North  and  the  West  in  those  monotonous 
ocean-like  levels  of  land  for  which  the  speech  of  England 
has  no  name — the  Prairies.  Its  population  was  nomadic, 
not  to  say  barbaric,  consisting  of  tribes  of  Indians  whose 
hunting  grounds  from  time  immemorial  the  region  was-, 
hunters  and  trappers,  who  had  turned  their  backs  upo4 
civilization  for  the  free,  wild  life  of  nature  ;  men  of 
doubtful  or  dangerous  antecedents,  who  had  found  it  con- 
venient to  leave  their  country  for  their  country's  good  ; 
and  scattered  about  hardy  pioneer  communities  from  East- 
ern States,  advancing  waves  of  the  great  sea  of  emigration 
which  is  still  drawing  tlie  course  of  empire  westward. 
Travelling  in  a  country  like  this,  and  among  people  like 
these,  Mayne  Reid  passed  five  years  of  his  early  manhood. 
He  was  at  home  wherever  he  went,  and  never  more  so 
than  when  among  tlie  Indians  of  the  lied  River  territory, 
with  whom  he  spent  several  months,  learning  their  lan- 
guage, studying  their  customs,  and  enjoying  the  wild  and 
beautiful  scenery  of  their  camping  grounds.  Indirn.  for 
the  time,  he  lived  in  their  lodges,  rode  with  them,  hunted 
with  them,  and  night  after  night  sat  by  tbeir  blazing 
camp-fires  listening  to  the  warlike  stories  of  tlie  braves 
and  the  quaint  legends  of  the  medicine  men.  Tliere  was 
that  in  the  blood  of  Maj-ne  Reid  which  fitted  him  to  lead 
this  life  at  *^iifs  ^jine,  and  whether  ho  knew  it  or  not  i( 
2 


educated  Ills  genins  as  no  other  life  conld  ^^ve  done.  It 
"  -•  ized  him  with  a  large  extent  of  country  m  tlie 
o^u...  .vnd  West;  it  introduced  him  to  men  and  manners 
which  existed  nowliere  else ;  and  it  revealed  to  him  the 


South  and  West 

which  existed  i 

secrets  of  Indian  life  and  character. 

There  was  another  side,  however,  to  Mayne  Reid  than 
that  we  have  touched  upon,  and  «"S  at  tlie  end  of  fiv. 
vears  drew  him  back  to  the  average  life  of  his  kind  We 
find  iiim  next  in  Philadelphia,  where  he  began  to  con- 
tribute stories  and- sketches  of  travel  to  the  newspapers 
and  magazines.  Philadelphia  was  then  the  most  liteiate 
city  in  the  United  States,  the  one  in  which  a  clever  writer 
was  at  once  encouraged  and  rewarded.  Frank  and  wai-m- 
hearted,  he  made  many  friends  there  among  Piir^alistg 
and  authors.  One  of  these  friends  was  Edgar  Al  a  Poe 
whom  he  often  visited  at  his  home  m  Spring  Garden  and 
concerning  whom  years  after,  when  he  was  dead,  he  wrote 
with  loving  tenderness. 

The  next  episode  in  the  career  of  Mayne  Reid  was  not 
what  one  would  expect  from  a  man  of  letters,  though  it 
las  just  what  might  have  been  expected  from  a  man  of 
his  temperament  and  antecedents.  It  grew  out  of  the 
feme,  which  was  warlike,  and  it  drove  him  into  the  army 
with  wliich  the  United  States  speedily  crushed  the  foices 
Tfhr  sister  Republic-Mexico.  He  obtained  a  commis- 
sion, and  served  throughout  the  war  with  great  bravery 
and  distinction.  This  stormy  episode  ended  with  a  severe 
wound,  which  he  received  in  storming  the  heights  of  Cha- 
pultepec-a  terrible  battle  which  practically  ended  the 

"^  a'  second  episode  of  a  similar  character,  but  with  a  more 
fortunate  conclusion,  occurred  about  four  years  later.  It 
grew  out  of  another  war,  which,  happily  for  us,  was  not  on 
our  borders,  but  in  the  heart  of  Europe,  where  the  Hun- 
garian race  had  risen  in  insurrection  against  the  hated  power 
of  Austria.  Their  desperate  valor  in  the  face  of  tremen- 
dons  odds  excited  the  sympathy  of  the  American  people, 
and  fired  the  heart  of  Captain  Mayne  Beid  who  buck  ed 
on  his  sword  once  more,  and  sailed  from_  New  York  with 
a  body  of  volunteers  to  aid  the  Hungarians  m  their  struggles 
for  independence.  They  were  too  late  for  hardly  had 
they  reached  Paris  before  they  learned  that  all  was  over. 
Gorgey  had  surrendered  at  Arad,  and  Hungary  wj^ 
irushed.  They  were  at  once  dismissed,  and  ^aptam  Rei(Jl 
betook  hiuaself  to  London. 

3 


The  life  of  the  Mayne  HeM  In  whom  we  are  iJitJSt  i»« 
terested— Mayne  Reid,  the  author— began  at  this  time, 
when  he  was  in  his  thirty-first  year,  and  ended  only  oa 
the  day  of  his  death,  October  21,  1883.  It  covered  one- 
third  of  a  century,  and  was,  when  compared  with  that 
which  had  preceded  it,  uneventful,  if  not  devoid  of  in- 
cident. There  is  not  much  that  needs  be  told — not  much, 
indeed,  that  can  be  told— in  the  life  of  a  man  of  letters 
like  Captain  Mayne  Reid.  It  is  written  in  his  books. 
Mayne  Reid  was  one  of  the  best  known  authors  of  his 
time — differing  in  this  from  many  authors  who  are  popu- 
lar without  being  known— and  in  the  walk  of  fiction  which 
he  discovered  for  himself  he  is  an  acknowledged  mas- 
ter. His  reputation  did  not  depend  upon  the  admiration 
of  the  millions  of  young  people  who  read  his  books,  but 
upon  the  judgment  of  mature  critics,  to  whom  his  delinea- 
tions of  adventurous  life  were  literature  of  no  common 
order.  His  reputation  as  a  story-teller  was  widely  recog- 
nized on  the  Continent,  where  he  was  accej^ted  as  an 
authority  in  regard  to  the  customs  of  the  pioneers  and  the 
guerilla  warfare  of  the  Indian  tribes,  and  was  warmly 
praised  for  his  freshness,  his  novelty,  and  his  hardy  origi- 
nality. The  people  of  France  and  Germany  delighted  in 
this  soldier- writer.  "  There  was  not  a  word  in  his  bookg 
which  a  school-boy  could  not  safely  read  aloud  to  his 
mother  and  sisters."  So  says  a  late  English  critic,  to  which 
another  adds,  that  if  he  has  somewhat  gone  out  of  fashion 
of  late  years,  the  more's  the  pity  for  the  school-boy  of  the 
period.  What  Defoe  is  in  Robinson  Crusoe — realistic  idyl 
of  island  solitude — that,  in  his  romantic  stories  of  wilder* 
uess  iife,  Is  his  great  scholar,  Captain  Mayne  Reid. 

E.  H.  SXODDASD. 
4 


AUTHOR'S    NOTE. 

Captain  Mayne  Reid  is  pleased  to  have  had  the  help 
of  an  American  Author  in  preparing  for  publication  this 
«tory  of  "  The  Boy  Slaves,"  and  takes  the  present  oppor- 
tunity of  acknowledging  that  help,  which  has  kindly  ex- 
tended beyond  matters  of  merely  external  form,  to  points 
of  narrative  and  composition,  which  are  here  embodied  with 
the  result  of  his  own  labor. 

The  Eancho,  December,  1864. 


CONTENTS. 


Iiurm  FAca 

I  The  Land  of  the  Suivb 1 

n.  Types  op  the  Triple  Klngdom        .        .  4 

ni.  The  Seepent'8  Tongck  .......  8 

IV.  'Ware  the  TideI .18 

V.  A  False  Guide 18 

VL  Wade  or  Swim  ? .  18 

VII.  A  Compulsory  Partido 21 

Vm.  Safe  Ashore 24 

IX.  Uncomfortable  Quabterb 29 

XI.  'Ware  the  Sand  I 85 

XIL  A  Mysterious  Niohtmabb    ......  40 

XIII.  The  Maherry 46 

XIV.  A  Liquid  Breakfast 49 

XV.  The  Sailor  among  the  Shell-fisb        ...  62 

XVI.  Keeping  under  Cover 56 

XVIL  The  Trail  on  the  Sand 60 

XVIIL  The  "Desert  Ship" 68 

XIX.  Homeward  Bound 66 

XX.  The  Dance  Interrupted 69 

XXI.  A  Serio-Comical  Eeceptios 78 

XXn.  The  Two  Sheiks 76 

XXUL  Sailor  Bill  Beshrewed 86 

XXIV.  Starting  on  the  Track 88 

XXV  Bill  to  be  Abandoned                      ....  86 

XXVL  A  Cautious  Retreat              8t 


IT  CONTENTS. 

XXVII.  A  QcEER  Quadruped       .               ....  91 

XXVIII.  The  Hue  and  Ckt M 

XXIX.  A  Subaqueous  Asylum 98 

XXX.  The  Pursuers  Nonplussed        ....  103 

XXXI.  A  Double  Predicament 105 

XXXII.  Once  more  the  mocking  Laugh             .       .        ,  103 

XXXIII.  A  Cunning  Sheik 113 

XXXIV.  A  Queer  Encounter          .       .       ,       .       .       .114 
XXXV.  Holding  on  to  the  Hump 118 

XXXVI.  Our  Adventurers  in  Undress      ....  121 

XXXVII.  The  Captives  in  Conversation       ,        .        .        .123 

KXXVIII.  The  Douar  at  Dawn 127 

yXXIX.  An  Obstinate  Dromedart 129 

XL.  Watering  the  Camels 133 

XLI.  A  Squabble  between  the  Sheiks          .        .        .  13£ 

XLII.  The  Trio  Staked 138 

XLIII.  GoLAH 142 

XLIV*  A  Day  of  Agony 147 

XLV.  Colin  in  Luck 153 

XLVI.  Sailor  Bill's  Experisiebt 166 

XLVU.  An  Unjust  Reward 169 

XLVUL  The  Waterless  Well 164 

XLIX.  The  Well 170 

L.  A  Momentous  Inquiry 175 

LL  A  Living  Grave .180 

UL  The  Sheik's  Plan  of  Revehgk     ....  184 

LEI.  Captured  Again 19C 

LIV.  An  Unfaithful  Wife 195 

LV.  Two  Faithful  Wives         ......  200 

LVI.  Fatima's  Fate 206 

LVIL  Further  Defection    ...               ...  209 

LVin.  A  Call  for  Two  More          .       ,        ...  214 

LIX.  Once  More  by  the  Sea 219 

LX  GoLAB  Calls  Agais 234 


LXI. 

Lxn. 

LXIII. 

LXIV. 
LXV. 

LXVI. 
LXVII. 
LXVIII. 

LXIX. 

LXX. 

LXXI. 
LXXII. 
LXXIII. 
LXXIV. 
LXXV. 
LXXVI. 
LXXVII. 

txxvm. 

LXXIX. 
LXXX. 

LXXXI. 
LXXXII 
LXXXIIL 
LXXXIV 


CONTENTS.  V 

Sailor  Bill  Standing  Sentrt      .       .        .       .228 

GoLAH  Fulfils  his  Destiny         ....  288 

On  the  Edge  of  the  Saaka 287 

The  Rival  Wkeckeks 240 

Another  White  Slave 245 

Sailor  Bill's  Brother 261 

A  Living  Stream      .......  254 

The  Arabs  at  Home 258 

Work  or  Die 262 

Victory! 267 

Sold  Again 270 

Onward  Once  Mork 276 

Another  Bargain      .        .        .  •      .        .        •       •  279 

More  Tortueb 283 

En  Route -  286 

Hope  Deferred      ......  289 

El  Hajji 293 

Bo  Muzem's  Jouiawr     ......  297 

Rais  aiouRAD -800 

6o  MuzEM  Back  AoACi         ,       .       .       .       ,  8M 

A  Pursuit    .....               =  808 

Moorish  Justicb •  S12 

The  Jew's  Leap  *!•  . 

CoNCLusioa >       =       -  *!• 


THE    EOT    SLAVES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   LAND    OF   THE    SLAVE. 

LAND  of  Ethiope !  whose  baming  centre  seems  unap" 
proachable  as  the  frozen  Pole  ! 

Land  of  the  unicorn  and  the  lion,  —  of  the  crouching 
panther  and  the  stately  elephant,  —  of  the  camel,  the  camel- 
opard,  and  the  camel-bird !  land  of  the  antelopes,  —  of  the 
wild  gemsbok,  and  the  gentle  gazelle,  —  land  of  the  gigan- 
tic crocodile  and  huge  river-horse,  —  land  teeming  with 
animal  life,  and  last  in  the  list  of  my  apostrophic  appella- 
tions, —  last,  and  that  which  must  grieve  the  heart  to  pro- 
nounce it,  —  land  of  the  slave ! 

Ah  !  httle  do  men  think  while  thus  bailing  thee,  how  near 
may  be  the  dread  doom  to  their  own  hearths  and  homes! 
Little  dream  they,  while  expressing  their  sympathy,  —  alas ! 
too  often,  as  of  late  shown  in  England,  a  hypocritical  utter- 
ance,—  little  do  they  suspect,  while  glibly  commiserating 
the  lot  of  thy  sable-skinned  children,  that  hundreds  —  aye, 
thousands  — -  of  their  own  color  and  kindred  are  held  within 
thy  confines,  subject  to  a  lot  even  lowlier  than  these,  —  a 
fate  far  more  fearful. 

Alas !  it  is  even  so.  While  I  write,  the  proud  Cauca- 
sian, —  despite  his  boasted  superiority  of  intellect,  —  despite 
the  whiteness  of  his  nkiu,  — may  be  found  by  hundreds  in 
1 


2  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

tbe  vnkno^Fn  "Jiterior,  wretchedly  toiling,  the  slave  not  onlj 
of  thy  oppressors,  but  the  slave  of  thy  slaves ! 

Let  us  lift  that  curtain,  which  shrouds  thy  great  Saara, 
ani  look  upon  some  pictures  that  should  teach  the  son  of 
Shem,  while  despising  his  brothers  Ham  and  Japhet,  that 
he  is  not  yet  master  of  the  world. 

Dread  is  that  shore  between  Susa  and  Senegal,  on  the 
western  edge  of  Africa,  —  by  mariners  most  dreaded  of  any 
other  in  the  world.  The  very  thought  of  it  causes  the  sailor 
to  shiver  with  aiFright.  And  no  wonder :  on  that  inhospita- 
ble seaboard  thousands  of  his  fellows  have  found  a  watery 
^ave  ;  and  thousands  of  others  a  doom  far  more  deplorable 
*han  deai^i! 

Ther*"  are  two  great  deserts :  one  of  land,  the  other  of 
waterj-— the  Saiira  and  the  Atlantic,  —  their  contiguity  ex 
tend>i>^  through  ten  degrees  of  the  earth's  latitude,  —  an 
enormous  distance.  Nothing  separates  them,  save  a  lino 
existing  only  in  the  imagination.  The  dreary  and  danger- 
ous wilderness  of  water  kisses  the  wilderness  of  sand,  —  not 
less  dreary  or  dangerous  to  those  whose  misfortune  it  may 
be  to  become  castaways  on  this  dreaded  shore. 

Alas  !  it  has  been  the  misfortune  of  many  —  not  hua 
dreds,  but  thousands.  Hundreds  of  ships,  rather  than  hun- 
dreds of  men,  have  suffered  wreck  and  ruin  between  Susa 
and  Senegal.  Perhaps  were  we  to  include  Roman,  Phoeni- 
cian, and  Carthaginian,  we  might  say  thousands  of  ships 
also. 

More  noted,  however,  have  been  the  disasters  of  modem 
times,  during  what  may  be  termed  the  epoch  of  tnodern 
naviga+ion.  Within  the  period  of  the  last  three  centuries, 
sailors  of  almost  every  maritime  nation  —  at  least  all  whose 
errand  has  led  them  along  the  eastern  edge  of  the  Atlantic 
—  have  had  reason  to  regret  approxiuiation  to  those  shores, 
known  in  ship  parlance  as  the  Barbary  coast;  but  whicl^i 


THE  LAND  OF  THE  SLAVE. 

with  a  slight  alteration  in  tlie  orthography,  might  be  appro 
priately  styled  "  Barbarian." 

A  chapter  might  bo  written  in  explanation  of  this  pecu« 
liarity  of  expression  —  a  chapter  which  would  comprise 
many  parts  of  two  sciences,  both  but  little  understood  — 
ethnology  and  meteorology. 

Of  the  former  we  may  have  a  good  deal  to  tell  before  tha 
ending  of  this  narrative.  Of  the  latter  it  must  suffice  to 
say :  that  the  frequent  wrecks  occurring  on  the  Barbary 
coast  —  or,  more  properly,  on  that  of  the  Saara  south  of  it 
—  are  the  result  of  an  Atlantic  current  setting  eastwards 
against  that  shore. 

The  cause  of  this  cun-ent  is  simple  enough,  though  it 
requires  explanation :  since  it  seems  to  contradict  not  only 
the  theory  of  the  "  trade  "  winds,  but  of  the  centrifugal  in- 
clination attributed  to  the  waters  of  the  ocean. 

I  have  room  only  for  the  theory  in  its  simplest  form. 
The  heating  of  the  Saara  under  a  tropical  sun  ;  the  absence 
of  those  influences  —  moisture  and  verdure  —  which  repel 
the  heat  and  retain  its  opposite  ;  the  ascension  of  the  heated 
air  that  hangs  over  this  vast  tract  of  desert ;  the  colder 
atmosphere  rushing  in  from  the  Atlantic  Ocean  ;  the  conse- 
quent eastward  tendency  of  the  waters  of  the  sea. 

These  facts  will  account  for  that  current  which  has  proved 
a  deadly  maelstrom  to  hundreds  —  aye,  thousands  —  of 
ships,  in  all  ages,  whose  misfortune  it  has  been  to  sail  un- 
suspectingly along  the  western  shores  of  the  Ethiopian  con- 
tinent. 

Even  at  the  present  day  the  castaways  upon  this  desert 
shore  are  by  no  means  rare,  notwithstanding  the  warnings 
that  at  close  intervals  have  been  proclaimed  for  a  period  of 
three  hundred  years. 

While  I  am  writing,  some  stranded  brig,  barque,  or  ship 
may  be  going  to  pieces  between  Bojador  and  Blanco ;  her 
crew  making  shorewards  in  boats  to  be  swamped  among  th* 


4  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

foaming  breakers ;  or,  riding  three  or  four  together  npoB 
some  se  veered  spar,  to  be  tossed  upon  a  desert  strand,  that 
each  may  wish,  from  the  bottom  of  his  soul,  should  prove 
uninhabited  ! 

I  can  myself  record  a  scene  like  this  that  occurred  not 
ten  years  ago,  about  midway  between  the  two  headlanda 
above  named  —  Bojador  and  Blanco.  The  locality  may  be 
more  particularly  designated  by  saying :  that,  at  half  dis- 
tance between  these  noted  capes,  a  narrow  strip  of  sand 
extends  for  several  miles  out  into  the  Atlantic,  parched 
white  imder  the  rays  of  a  tropical  sun  —  like  the  tongue  of 
some  fiery  serpent,  well  represented  by  the  Saara,  far 
stretching  to  seaward ;  ever  seeking  to  cool  itself  in  the 
crystal  waters  of  the  sea. 


CHAPTER    11. 

TYPES    OF   THE   TRIPLE   KINGDOM. 

NEAR  the  tip  of  this  tongue,  almost  within  "  licking  " 
distance,  on  an  evening  in  the  month  of  June 
18 — ,  a  group  of  the  kind  last  alluded  to  —  three  or  four 
castaways  upon  a  spar  —  might  have  been  seen  by  any  eye 
that  chanced  to  be  near. 

Fortunately  for  them,  there  was  none  sufficiently  approx- 
imate to  make  out  the  character  of  that  dark  speck,  slowly 
approaching  the  white  sand-spit,  like  any  other  drift  carried 
U2>on  the  landward  current  of  the  sea. 

It  was  just  possible  for  a  person  standing  upon  the  sum- 
mit of  one  of  the  sand  "  dunes  "  that,  like  white  billows, 
rolled  oft"  into  the  interior  of  the  continent  —  it  was  just 
possible  for  a  person  thus  placed  to  have  distinguished  the 


TYPES   OF   THE   TRIPLE   KINGDOM.  A 

■foresaid  speck  without  the  aid  of  a  glass  ;  though  with  one 
it  would  have  required  a  prolonged  and  careful  observation 
to  have  discovered  its  character. 

The  sand-spit  was  full  three  miles  in  length.  The  hilla 
Stood  back  from  the  shore  another.  Four  miles  was  suffi- 
cient to  screen  the  castaways  from  the  observation  of  any- 
one who  miglit  be  straying  along  the  coast. 

For  (he  individuals  themselves  it  appeared  very  improba- 
ble that  there  could  be  any  one  observing  them.  As  far  as 
eye  could  reach  —  east,  north,  and  south,  there  was  nothing 
save  white  sand.  To  the  west  nothing  but  the  blue  water. 
No  eye  could  be  upon  them,  save  that  of  the  Creator.  Of 
His  creatures,  tame  or  wild,  savage  or  civilized,  there 
seemed  not  one  within  a  circuit  of  miles :  for  within  that 
circuit  there  was  nothing  visible  that  could  afford  subsist- 
tence  either  to  man  or  animal,  bird  or  beast.  In  the  white 
oubstratum  of  sand,  gently  shelving  far  under  the  sea,  there 
was  not  a  sufficiency  of  organic  matter  to  have  afforded 
food  for  fish  —  even  for  the  lower  organisms  of  mollusca. 
Undoubtedly  were  these  castaways  alone  ;  as  much  so,  as  if 
their  locality  had  been  the  centre  of  the  Atlantic,  instead 
of  its  coast ! 

We  are  privileged  to  approach  them  ne:ir  enough  to  com- 
prehend their  character,  and  learn  the  cause  that  has  thus 
isolated  them  so  far  from  the  regions  of  animated  life. 

There  are  four  of  them,  astride  a  spar  ;  which  also  carries 
a  sail,  partially  reefed  around  it,  and  partially  permitted  to 
drag  loosely  through  the  water. 

At  a  glance  a  sailor  could  have  told  that  the  spar  on 
which  they  are  supported  is  a  topsail-yard,  which  has  been 
detached  from  its  masts  in  such  a  violent  manner  as  to  un- 
loose some  of  the  reefs  that  had  held  the  sail,  thus  partially 
releasing  the  canvas.  But  it  needed  not  a  sailor  to  tell  why 
this  had  been  done.  A  ship  has  foundered  somewhere  near 
the  coast.     There  has  been  a  gale  two  days  before      The 


6  'IHI:;  BOY   SLAVES. 

spar  in  question,  with  those  supported  upon  it,  is  but  a  frag- 
ment of  the  wreck.  There  might  have  been  other  fiag- 
ments,  —  others  of  the  crew  escaped,  or  escaping  in  lika 
manner,  —  but  there  are  no  others  in  sight.  The  castaways 
Blowly  drifting  towards  the  sandspit  are  alone.  Tliey  have 
no  companions  on  the  oceari,  —  no  spectators  on  its  sliore. 

As  already  stated,  there  are  four  of  them.  Three  are 
Strangely  alike.  —  at  least,  in  the  particulars  of  size,  sha})e, 
and  costume.  In  age,  too,  there  is  no  great  di {Terence.  All 
three  are  boys :  the  oldest  not  over  eighteen,  the  youngest 
certainly  not  a  year  his  junior. 

In  the  physiognomy  of  the  three  there  is  similitude  enough 
to  declare  them  of  one  nation,  —  thaugh  dissimilarity  suf- 
ficient to  prove  a  distinct  provinciality  botli  in  countenance 
and  character.  Their  dresses  of  dark  blue  cloth,  cut  pea- 
jacket  shape,  and  besprinkled  with  buttons  of  burnished 
yellow,  —  their  cloth  caps,  of  like  color,  encircled  by  bands 
of  gold  lace,  —  their  collars,  embroidered  with  the  crown 
and  anchor,  declare  them,  all  three,  to  be  officers  in  the 
service  of  that  great  maritime  government  that  "has  so  long 
held  undisputed  possession  of  the  sea,  —  midshipmen  of  the 
British  navy.  Rather  should  we  say,  had  been.  They  have 
lost  this  proud  position,  along  with  the  frigate  to  which 
they  had  been  attached  ;  and  they  now  only  share  authority 
upon  a  dismasted  spar,  over  which  they  are  exerting  some 
control,  since,  with  their  bodies  bent  downwards,  and  their 
hands  beating  the  water,  they  are  propelling  it  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  sand-spit. 

In  the  countenances  of  the  three  castaways  thus  intro- 
duced, I  have  admitted  a  dissimilitude  something  more  than 
casual,  —  something  more,  even,  than  what  might  be  termed 
provincial.  Each  presented  a  type  tliat  could  have  been 
referred  to  that  wider  distinction  known  as  a  nationality. 

The  tli!-ee  "middies"  astride  o£  that  topsail-yard  were 
of  cour  0  cnstawn\s  from  the  same  shin,  in  the  service  of 


TYPES   OF   THE   TRIPLE   KINGDOM,  1 

the  same  government,  though  oaoh  was  of  a  different 
Dationalit}'  from  the  other  two.  They  were  the  respective 
representatives  of  Jack,  Paddy,  and  Sandy,  —  or,  to  speals 
tiior3  poetically,  of  the  Rose,  Shamrock,  and  Thistle,  —  and 
had  the  three  kingdoms  from  which  they  came  been  searched 
throughout  their  whole  extent,  there  could  scarcely  ha^e 
been  discovered  purer  representative  types  of  each,  than  the 
three  reefers  on  that  spar,  drifting  towards  the  sand-spit  be- 
tween Bojador  and  Blanco. 

Their  names  were  Harry  Blount,  Terence  O'Connor,  and 
Colin  Macpherson. 

The  fourth  individual  —  who  shared  with  them  their  frail 
embarkation  —  differed  from  all  three  in  almost  every  respect, 
but  more  especially  in  years.  The  ages  of  all  three  united 
would  not  liave  numbered  his :  and  their  wrinkles,  if  col- 
lected together,  would  scarce  have  made  so  many  as  could 
have  been  counted  in  the  crowsfeet  indelibly  imprinted  in 
the  corners  of  his  e}'es. 

It  would  have  required  a  very  learned  ethnologist  to  have 
told  to  which  of  his  three  companions  he  was  compatriot; 
though  there  could  be  no  doubt  about  his  being  either  Eng- 
lish, Irish,  or  Scotch. 

Strange  to  say,  his  tongue  did  not  aid  in  the  identification 
of  his  nationality.  It  was  not  often  heard  ;  but  even  when 
it  was,  its  utterance  would  have  defied  the  most  a,ccom- 
plished  linguistic  ear  ;  and  neither  from  that,  nor  other  cir 
cumstance  known  to  them,  could  any  one  of  his  three  coic 
panions  lay  claim  to  him  as  a  countryman.  When  he  spoke, 
—  a  rare  occurrence  already  hinted,  —  it  was  with  a  libeiaJ 
misplacement  of  "  h's  "  that  should  have  proclaimed  him  an 
Englishman  of  purest  Cockney  type.  At  the  sam(3  time  his 
language  was  freely  interspersed  with  Irish  '  ochs "  and 
"^  shures  "  ;  while  the  "  wees  "  and  "  bonnys,"  oft  recurring 
iii  his  speech,  should  have  proved  him  a  sworn  Scotchman. 
From  his  countenance  you  might  have  drawn  your  own  in- 


8  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

ference,  and  believed  hira  any  of  the  three ;  but  not  from 
Lis  tono-ne.  Neither  in  his  accent,  nor  the  words  that  fell 
from  hira,  could  you  have  told  which  of  tlie  three  kingdoms 
had  the  honor  of  giving  him  birth. 

Whichever  it  was,  it  had  supplied  to  the  Service  a  true 
British  tar:  for  although  you  might  mistake  the  man  in 
other  respects,  his  appearance  forbade  all  equivocation  upon 
this  point. 

His  costume  was  that  of  a  common  sailor,  and,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  his  name  was  "Bill."  But  tis  he  had  only 
been  one  among  many  "  Bills  "  rated  on  the  man-o'-war's 
books, — now  gone  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea, — he  carried  a 
distinctive  appellation,  no  doult  earned  by  his  greater  age. 
Aboard  the  irigate  he  had  been  known  as  "Old  Bill";  and 
the  soubriquet  still  attached  to  him  upon  the  spar. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    SERPKNT's    TONGUl',. 

rr^HE  presence  of  a  ship's  topsail-yivd  thus  bestridden 
a  plaijily  proclaimed  that  a  ship  had  been  wrecked,  al- 
though no  other  evidence  ot"  the  wreck  was  within  sight 
Not  a  wpeck  was  visible  upon  the  sea  to  the  utmost  verge 
of  the  horizon :  and  if  a  ship  had  foundered  within  that 
field  of  view,  her  boats  and  every  vestige  of  the  wreck  mu^i 
either  have  gone  to  the  bottom,  or  in  some  other  direction 
than  that  taken  by  the  topsail-yard,  which  supported  tho 
three  midshipmen  and  the  sailor  Bill. 

A  ship  had  gone  to  the  bottom  —  a  British  man-of-war — 
a  corvette  on  her  way  to  her  cruising  ground  on  the  Guinea 
coast.     Beguiled  by  the  dangerous  current  that  Hiits  lowarrJi 


THE  SEErENT'S   TONGUE.  9 

the  seaboard  of  the  Saiira,  in  a  dark  stormy  night  she  had 
BtriiCk  upon  a  sand-bank,  got  bilged,  and  sunk  almost  instantly 
among  the  breakers.  Boats  had  been  got  out,  and  men  had 
been  seen  crowding  hurriedly  into  them  ;  otliers  had  taken 
to  such  rafts  or  spars  as  could  be  deta<  hed  from  the  sinking 
vessel :  but  whether  any  of  these,  or  the  overladen  boats, 
had  succeeded  in  reaching  the  shore,  was  a  question  ■which 
none  of  the  four  astride  the  topsail-yard  were  able  to  answer. 
Tliey  only  knew  that  the  corvette  had  gone  to  the  bottom, 

—  they  saw  her  go  down,  shortly  after  drifting  away  from 
her  side,  but  saw  nothing  more  until  morning,  when  they 
perceived  themselves  alone  upon  the  ocean.  Thoy  liad  been 
drifting  throughout  the  remainder  of  that  long,  dark  night, 

—  often  entirely  under  water,  when  the  sea  swelled  over 
them,  —  and  one  and  all  of  them  many  times  on  the  point 
of  being  washed  from  their  frail  embarkation. 

By  daybreak  the  storm  had  ceased,  and  was  succeeded  by 
a  clear,  cairn  day  ;  but  it  was  not  until  a  late  hour  tliat  the 
swell  had  subsided  sufficiently  to  enable  them  to  take  any 
measures  lor  propelling  tlie  strange  craft  that  carried  them. 
Then  using  their  hands  as  oars  or  paddles,  they  commenced 
making  some  way  through  the  water. 

Tliere  was  nothing  in  sight  —  neither  land  nor  any  other 
object  —  save  the  sea,  the  sky,  and  the  sun.  It  was  the 
east  which  guided  them  as  to  direcl'ou.  I>ut  for  it  there 
could  have  been  no  object  in  making  way  through  the  water; 
bu.t  with  the  sun  now  sinking  in  the  west,  they  could  tell 
the  east,  and  they  knew  that  in  that  point  alone  laud  might 
be  expected. 

Alter  the  sun  had  gone  down  the  stars  became  their  com- 
pass, and  throughout  all  the  second  niglit  of  their  shipwreck 
they  had  continued  to  juiddle  the  spar  in  an  easterly  direction. 

Day  again  dawned  upon  thcra,  but  without  grrdifying 
their  eyes  by  the  sight  of  la-id,  or  any  other  object  U>  iu.<pir« 
them  with  a  hope. 


10  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Famished  with  liunger,  tortured  with  thirst,  aud  v»earie»J 
with  their  continued  exertions,  they  were  ahout  to  surrender 
to  d66])air ;  when,  as  the  sun  once  more  mounted  up  to  the 
Bky,  and  his  bright  beams  pierced  the  crystal  water  upon 
which  they  were  floating,  they  saw  beneath  them  tlie  slieen 
of  white  sand.  It  was  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  and  at  no 
great  depth,  —  not  more  than  a  few  fathoms  below  their 
&et. 

Such  shallow  water  could  not  be  far  from  tlie  shore.  Re- 
Assured  and  encouraged  by  the  thought,  they  once  more 
renewed  their  exertions,  and  continued  to  paddle  the  spar, 
taking  only  short  intervals  of  rest  throughout  the  whole  of 
the  morning. 

Long  before  noon  they  were  compelled  to  desist.  They 
were  close  to  the  tropic  of  Cancer,  almost  under  its  line.  It 
was  the  season  of  midsummer,  and  of  cour&e  at  meridian 
hour  the  sun  was  right  over  their  heads.  Even  their  bodies 
cast  no  shadow,  except  uj-)on  the  wlute  sand  directly  under- 
neath them,  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

The  sun  could  no  longer  guide  them;  and  as  they  had  no 
other  index,  they  were  compelled  to  remain  stationary,  or 
drift  in  whatever  direction  the  breeze  or  the  currents  might 
carry  them. 

There  was  not  much  movement  any  way,  and  lor  several 
hours  before  and  after  noon  they  lay  almost  becalmed  upon 
the  ocean.  This  period  was  passed  in  silence  and  inaction. 
There  was  nothing  for  them  to  talk  about  but  their  forlorn 
Bituation,  and  this  topic  had  been  exhausted.  There  waa 
nothing  for  them  to  do.  Their  only  occupation  was  to  watch 
the  sun,  until,  by  its  sinking  lower  m  the  sky,  they  might 
discover  its  westing. 

Could  they  at  that  moment  have  elevated  their  eyes  only 
three  feet  higher,  they  would  not  have  needed  to  wait  for 
the  declination  of  the  orb  of  day.  They  would  have  seen 
Umd,  such  land  as  it  was  ;  but,  sunk  as  then-  shoulders  wer« 


THE  SERPENT'S  TONGUE  11 

ftlmost  to  the  level  of  the  water,  even  the  summits  ci"  the 
Band  dunea  were  not  visible  to  their  eyes. 

"When  the  sun  began  to  go  down  towards  the  horizon, 
they  once  more  plied  their  palms  against  the  liquid  wave, 
and  sculled  the  spar  eastward.  The  sun's  lower  limb  was 
just  touching  the  western  horizon,  when  his  red  rays,  glan- 
eing  over  their  slioulders,  showed  them  some  white  spots 
that  ajDpeared  to  rise  out  of  the  water. 

Were  tliey  clouds  ?  No !  Their  rounded  tops,  cutting 
the  sky  with  a  clear  Ime,  forbade  this  belief.  They  should 
be  hills,  either  of  snow  or  of  sand.  It  was  not  the  region 
for  snow  :  they  could  only  be  sand-liills. 

The  cry  of  "  land "  pealed  simultaneously  from  the  hpa 
of  all,  —  that  cheerful  cry  that  has  so  oft  given  gladness  to 
the  despairing  castaway,  —  and  redoubling  their  exertions, 
the  spar  was  propelled  through  the  water  more  ra[)idly  than 
evei'. 

Reinvigorated  by  the  prospect  of  once  more  setting  foot 
upon  land,  they  forgot  for  the  moment  thirst,  hunger,  and 
weariness,  and  only  occupied  themselves  in  sculling  their 
craft  towards  the  shore. 

Under  the  belief  that  they  Iiad  still  several  miles  to 
make  before  the  beach  could  bo  attained,  tliey  were  one  and 
all  working  with  eyes  turned  downward.  At  that  mo- 
ment old  Bill,  chancing  to  look  up,  gave  utterance  to  a 
shout  of  joy,  which  was  instantly  echoed  by  his  youthful 
eompaiiions :  all  had  at  the  same  time  perceivetl  the  long 
«£nd-spit  projecting  far  out  into  the  water,  and  which  looked 
Like  the  hand  of  some  friend  held  out  to  bid  them  welcome. 

They  had  scarce  made  this  discovery  be!bre  another  of 
(ike  i)leasant  nature  same  under  their  attention.  That  was, 
*hat  they  were  touching  bottom  !  Their  legs,  bestriding  tha 
fcpar,  hu3g  down  on  each  side  of  it :  and  to  the  joy  of  ail 
they  now  felt  their  feet  scraping  along  the  sand. 

As  if  actuated  by  one  impulse,  all  four  dismounted  from 


IS  THE   BOY   SLAVES. 

the  irksome  seat  they  had  been  so  long  compelled  to  keep 
and,  biddhig  adieu  to  the  spar,  thej  [ilunged  on  through  the 
Bhoal  water,  without  stop  or  stay,  until  they  stood  high  and 
dry  upon  the  extreme  jioint  of  the  peninsula. 

By  this  time  the  sun  had  gone  down ;  and  the  four  drip* 
ping  forms,  dimly  outlined  in  the  purple  twilight,  appeared 
like  four  strange  creatures  who  had  just  emerged  from  out 
the  depths  of  the  ocean. 

"  Where  next  ?  " 

This  was  the  mental  interrogatory  of  all  four :  though  by 
none  of  them  shaped  into  words. 

"  Nowhere  to-night,"  was  the  answer  suggested  by  the 
inclination  of  each. 

Impelled  by  hunger,  stimulated  by  thirst,  one  would  have 
expected  them  to  proceed  onward  in  search  of  food  and 
water  to  alleviate  this  double  suffering.  But  there  was  an 
inclination  stronger  than  either,  —  too  strong  to  be  resisted, 
—  sleep :  since  for  fifty  hours  they  had  been  without  any ; 
.  since  to  have  fallen  asleep  on  the  spar  would  have  been 
to  subject  themselves  to  the  danger,  almost  the  certainty,  of 
dropping  off,  and  getting  drowned  ;  and,  notwithstanding 
their  need  of  sleep,  increased  by  fatigue,  and  the  necessity 
of  keeping  constantly  on  the  alert,  —  up  to  that  moment  not 
one  of  them  had  obtained  any.  The  thrill  of  pleasure  that 
passed  through  their  frames  as  they  felt  their  feet  upon 
terra  firma  for  a  moment  aroused  them.  But  the  excite- 
ment could  not  be  sustained.  The  drowsy  god  would  no 
longer  be  deprived  of  his  rights  ;  and  one  after  anotlier  — • 
though  without  much  interval  between  —  sank  down  upoa 
the  soft  sand,  and  yielded  to  his  balray  embrace. 


'WARE  THE  TIDE  \  U 

CHAPTER    IV. 

'ware  the  tide. 

rilHROUGH  that  freak,  or  Jaw,  of  nature  by  which  penin- 
I  sulas  are  shaped,  tlie  point  of  the  sand-spit  was  elevated 
several  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea;  while  its  neck, 
nearer  the  laud,  scarce  rose  above  the  surface  of  the  water. 

It  was  this  highest  point  —  where  the  sand  was  thrown 
up  in  a  "  wreath,"  like  snow  in  a  storm  —  that  the  casta- 
ways had  chosen  for  their  couch.  But  little  pains  had  been 
taken  in  selecting  the  spot.  It  was  the  most  conspicuous, 
as  well  as  the  driest ;  and,  on  stepping  out  of  the  water, 
they  had  tottered  towards  it,  and  half  mechanically  chosen 
it  for  their  place  of  repose. 

Simple  as  Avas  the  couch,  they  were  not  allowed  to  occupy 
it  for  long.  They  had  been  scarce  two  hours  asleep,  when 
one  and  all  of  them  were  awakened  by  a  sensation  that 
chilled,  and,  at  the  same  time,  terrified  them.  Their  terror 
arose  from  a  sense  of  suffocation  :  as  if  salt  water  was  being 
poured  down  their  throats,  which  was  causing  it.  In  short, 
they  experienced  the  sensation  of  drowning;  and  fancied 
they  were  struggling  amid  the  waves,  from  which  thiy  had 
80  lately  escaped. 

All  four  sprang  to  their  feet,  —  if  not  simultaneously,  at 
least  in  quick  succession,  —  and  all  appeared  equally  the 
victims  of  astonishment,  closely  approximating  to  terror. 
Instead  of  the  couch  of  soft,  dry  sand,  on  which  they  had 
stretched  their  tired  rrames,  they  now  stood  up  to  their 
ankles  in  water,  —  which  was  soughing  and  surging  around 
them.  It  was  this  change  in  their  situation  that  caused 
their  astonishment ;  though  the  terror  quick  following  sprang 
5-om  quite  another  cause. 

The  former  was  short-lived  :  for  it  met  with  a  ready  ex- 


14  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

planation.  In  the  confusion  of  their  ideas,  added  to  thmt 
strong  desire  for  sleep,  they  had  forgotten  the  tide.  Tlie 
Band,  dust-dry  under  the  heat  of  a  huruing  sun,  had  deceived 
thein.  They  h;td  hiin  down  upon  it,  without  a  thought  of 
*ts  ever  being  submerged  under  the  sea  ;  but  now  to  their 
surprise  they  perceived  their  mistake.  Not  only  was  their 
couch  completely  under  water :  but,  had  they  slept  a  few 
minutes  longer,  they  would  themselves  have  been  quite 
covered.  Of  course  the  waves  had  awakened  them  ;  and  no 
doubt  would  have  done  so  half  an  hour  earlier,  but  for  the  pro- 
found slumber  into  which  their  long  watching  and  weariness 
had  thrown  them.  The  contact  of  the  cold  water  was  not 
likely  to  have  much  effect :  since  they  had  been  already  ex- 
posed to  it  for  more  than  forty  hours.  Indeed,  it  was  not 
that  which  had  aroused  them ;  but  the  briny  fluid  getting 
into  their  mouths,  and  causing  them  that  feeling  of  suffoca- 
tion that  very  much  resembled  drowning. 

More  than  one  of  the  party  had  sprung  to  an  erect  atti- 
tude, under  the  belief  that  such  was  in  reality  the  case ;  and 
it  is  not  quite  correct  to  say  that  their  first  feeling  was  one  oi 
mere  astonishment.    It  was  strongly  commingled  with  terror. 

On  perceiving  how  matters  stood,  their  fears  subsided  al- 
most as  rapidly  as  they  had  arisen.  It  was  only  the  inflow 
of  the  tide ;  and  to  escape  from  it  would  be  easy  enough. 
They  would  have  nothing  more  to  do,  than  keep  along  the 
narrowstripof  sand,  which  they  had  observed  before  landing. 
This  would  cond+ict  them  to  the  true  shore.  They  knew 
this  to  be  at  some  distance ;  but,  once  there,  they  could 
choose  a  more  elevated  couch,  on  which  they  could  recline 
undisturbed  till  the  morning. 

Such  was  their  belief,  conceived  the  instant  after  they  had 
got  upon  their  legs.  It  was  soon  followed  by  anotlier,  — 
another  consternation,  —  which,  if  not  so  sudden  as  the  first 
was,  perhaps,  ten  times  more  intense. 

On  turning  their  faces  towards  what  they  believed  to  bu 


■WARE   THE   TIDE!  13 

the  land,  there  was  no  land  in  sight,  —  neither  sand-hillH 
nor  shore,  nor  even  the  narrow  tongue  upon  whose  tip  they 
had  been  trusting  themselves  !  Tiiere  was  nothing  visible 
but  water ;  and  even  this  was  scarce  discernible  at  the  dis- 
i&ace  of  six  paces  from  wliere  they  stood.  They  could  only 
tell  that  water  was  around  them,  by  hearing  it  hoarsely  swish- 
ing on  every  side,  and  seeing  through  the  dim  obscurity 
the  strings  of  white  froth  that  floated  on  its  broken  surface. 

It  was  not  altogether  the  darkness  of  the  night  that  ob- 
scured their  view ;  thougli  this  was  of  itself  profound.  It 
was  a  thick  mist,  or  fog,  that  had  arisen  over  the  surface  of 
the  ocean,  and  which  enveloped  their  bodies  ;  so  that,  though 
standing  almost  close  together,  each  appeared  to  the  others 
like  some  huge  spectral  form  at  a  distance ! 

To  remain  where  they  were,  was  to  be  swallowed  up  by 
the  sea.  There  could  be  no  uncertainty  about  that ;  and 
therefore  no  one  thought  of  staying  a  moment  longer  on  the 
point  of  the  sand-spit,  now  utterly  submerged. 

But  in  what  direction  were  they  to  go  ?  That  was  the 
que^^tion  that  required  to  be  solved  before  starting;  and  in 
the  solution  of  which,  perhaj)3,  depended  the  safety  of  their 
lives. 

We  need  scarce  say  perhaps.  Rather  might  we  say,  for 
jertain.  By  taking  a  wrcng  direction  they  would  be  walk- 
mg  into  the  sea,  —  where  tliey  would  soon  get  beyond  their 
iepth,  and  be  in  danger  of  drowning.  This  was  all  the 
«orP  likely,  that  the  wind  had  been  increasing  ever  since 
.hey  had  laid  down  to  rest,  and  was  now  blowing  with  con- 
aierablc  violence.  Partly  from  this,  and  partly  by  the 
lidal  influence,  big  waves  had  commenced  rolling  around 
them ;  so  that,  even  in  the  shoal  water  where  they  stood, 
each  successive  swell  was  rising  higher  and  higher  against 
their  bodies. 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost.  They  must  find  the  U\xi 
direction  for  the  shore,  and  fol'ow  it,  —  quickly  too;  or  pen 
ish  axoid  the  breakers  I 


^Q  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER  V. 

A    FALSE    GUIDE. 

WHICH  way  to  the  shore ? 
That  was  the  question  that  arose  to  the  lips  of  all. 

You  may  fancy  it  could  have  been  easily  answered.  The 
direction  of  the  wind  and  waves  was  landward.  It  was  the 
sea-breeze,  which  at  night,  as  every  navigator  is  aware, 
blows  habitually  towards  the  land,  —  at  least,  in  the  region 
of  the  tropics,  and  more  especially  towards  the  hot  Saara. 

The  tide  itself  might  have  told  them  the  direction  to  take. 
It  was  the  in-coming  tide,  and  therefore  swelling  towards  the 
beach. 

You  may  fancy  that  they  had  nothing  to  do  but  follow  the 
waves,  keeping  the  breeze  upon  their  back. 

So  they  fancied,  at  first  starting  for  the  shore ;  but  they 
were  not  long  in  discovering  that  this  guide,  apparently  so 
trustworthy  was  not  to  be  relied  upon ;  and  it  was  only  then 
they  became  apprised  of  the  real  danger  of  their  situation. 
Both  wind  and  waves  were  certainly  pi'oceeding  landward, 
and  in  a  direct  line ;  but  it  was  just  this  direct  line  the  cast- 
aways dared  not  —  in  fact  could  not —  follow:  for  they  had 
not  gone  a  hundred  fathoms  from  the  point  of  the  submerged 
peninsula  when  they  found  the  water  rapidly  deepeniug 
before  them ;  and  a  few  fathoms  further  on  they  stood  up  to 
their  armpits ! 

It  was  evident  that,  in  the  direction  in  which  they  -.Tcre 
proceeding,  it  continued  to  grow  deeper ;  and  they  turned  to 
try  another. 

After  floundering  about  for  a  while,  they  found  shoal 
water  again,  —  reaching  up  only  to  their  knees;  but  wherever 
they  attempted  to  follow  the  course  of  the  waves,  they  per- 
ceived that  the  shoal  trended  giadually  downward. 


A   FALSE   GUIDE.  17 

This  at  first  caused  them  surprise,  as  well  as  alarm.  The 
fcrmer  aflected  them  only  for  an  instant.  The  explanation 
was  sought  for,  and  suggested  to  the  satisfaction  of  all.  The 
Band-spit  did  not  project  perpendicularly  from  the  line  of  the 
coast,  but  in  a  diagonal  direction.  It  was  in  fact,  a  sort  of 
natural  breakwater  —  forming  one  side  of  a  large  cone,  or 
erabayment,  lying  between  it  and  the  true  beach.  Thia 
feature  had  been  observed,  on  their  first  setting  foot  upon  it, 
though  at  the  time  they  were  so  much  engrossed  with  the 
joyous  thought  of  having  escaped  from  the  sea,  that  it  had 
made  no  impression  upon  their  memory. 

They  now  remembered  the  circumstance ;  though  not  to 
their  satisfaction  ;  for  they  saw  at  once  that  the  guide  in 
which  tliey  had  been  trusting  could  no  longer  avail  them. 

The  waves  were  rolling  on  over  that  bay  —  whose  depth 
they  had  tried,  only  to  find  it  unfordable. 

Tins  was  a  new  dilemma.  To  escape  from  it  there  ap- 
peared but  one  way.  They  must  keep  their  course  along 
the  combing  of  the  peninsula  —  if  they  could.  But  their 
ability  to  do  so  had  now  become  a  question  —  each  instant 
jrowing  more  difficult  to  answer. 

They  were  no  longer  certain  that  they  were  on  the  spit ; 
but,  whether  or  not,  tliey "  could  find  no  shallower  water 
by  trying  on  either  side.  Each  way  they  went  it  seemed  to 
deepen  ;  and  even  if  they  stood  still  but  for  a  few  moments, 
as  they  were  compelled  to  do  while  hesitating  as  to  their 
course  —  the  water  rose  perceptibly  upon  their  hmbs. 

They  were  now  well  aware  that  they  had  two  enemies  to 
contend  with  —  time  and  direction.  The  loss  of  either  one 
or  the  otlier  might  end  in  their  destruction.  A  wrong  di- 
rection would  lead  them  into  deep  water;  a  waste  of 
time  would  biing  deep  water  around  them.  The  old  adage 
about  time  and  tide  —  which  none  of  them  could  help  hav- 
bg  huard  —  might  have  been  ringing  in  their  ears  at  that 
aaoaient.     It  was  appropriate  to  the  occasion. 


18  THK   BOY   SLA'^'TiS. 

They  thought  of  it ;  and  the  thought  filled  them  with  qp 
prehension.  From  the  observations  they  had  made  before 
Bunset,  they  knew  that  the  shore  could  not  be  near  —  not 
nearer  than  three  miles  —  perliaps  four. 

Ev3n  with  free  footing,  the  true  diriction,  and  a  clear 
view  of  the  path,  it  might  have  been  a  question  about  time. 
They  all  knew  enough  of  the  sea  to  be  aware  how  rapidly 
the  tide  sets  in  —  especially  on  some  foreign  shores  —  and 
there  was  nothing  to  assure  them  that  the  seaboard  of  the 
SaJira  was  not  beset  by  the  most  treacherous  of  tides.  On 
the  contrary,  it  was  just  this  —  a  tidal  current  —  that  had 
forced  their  vessel  among  the  breakers,  causing  them  to  be- 
come what  they  now  were,  —  castaways  ! 

They  had  reason  to  dread  the  tides  of  the  Salira's  shore ; 
and  dread  them  they  did,  —  their  fears  at  each  moment  be- 
coming stronger  as  they  f-^lt  the  d^rk  waters  rising  higher 
and  higher  around  thera. 


F 


CHAPTER    VI. 

WADE    OE    SWn5  ? 

,,0R  a  time  they  floundered  on,  —  the  old  sailer  in  the 
lead,  the  three  boys  strung  lut  ii.  a  line^aftef  him. 
Sometimes  they  departed  from  this  formation,  —  one  or 
another  trying  towards  the  flank  for  shallower  water. 

Already  it  clasped  them  -liy  the  thighs  ;  and  just  in  pro- 
portion as  it  rose  upon  their  bo<lie9,  did  their  spirits  become 
depressed.  They  knew  that  they  were  fo!lo>\'ing  the  crest  ol 
the  sand-spit.  Tliey  knew  it  by  the  deepening  of  the  sea  on 
each  side  of  them ;  but  they  had  by  this  time  discovered  an- 
other index  to  their  direction.    Old  Rill  had  kept  his  "  weatli* 


WADE   OR   SWIM  ?  l9 

9r-eje  "  upon  the  waves  ;  until  he  had  (discovered  the  angla 
at  which  tliey  broke  over  the  "  bar,"  and  could  Ibllow  the 
** combing"  of  tlie  spit,  as  he  called  it,  without  much  dangei" 
of  departure  from  the  true  path. 

It  was  not  the  direction  that  troubled  their  thoughts  any 
longer ;  but  the  time  and  the  tide. 

Up  to  their  waists  in  water,  their  progress  could  not  be 
otherwise  than  slow.  The  time  would  not  liave  signified 
could  they  have  been  sure  of  the  tide,  —  that  is,  sure  of  its 
not  rising  higher. 

Alas !  they  could  not  be  in  doubt  about  this.  On  the  con- 
trary, they  were  too  well  assured  tliat  it  was  rising  higlier; 
and  with  a  rapidity  that  threatened  soon  to  submerge  them 
under  its  merciles  swells.  These  came  slowly  sweeping 
along,  in  the  diagonal  direction,  —  one  succeeding  the  other, 
and  each  new  one  striking  higher  up  upon  the  bodies  of  the 
now  exhausted  waders. 

On  they  floundered  despite  their  exhaustion  ;  on  along 
the  suba(iueous  ridge,  which  at  every  step  appeared  to  sink 
deeper  into  the  water,  —  as  if  the  nearer  to  the  land  the 
peninsula  became  all  the  more  depressed.  This,  however, 
was  but  a  fancy.  They  had  already  passed  the  neck  of  the 
sand-spit  wliex-e  it  was  lowest.  It  was  not  that,  but  the  fast 
flowing  tide  that  was  deepening  the  water  around  them. 

Deeper  and  deeper,  —  deeper  and  deeper,  till  the  salt  sea 
cla'^'ped  them  around  the  armpits,  and  the  tidal  waves  began 
to  break  over  their  heads  ! 

Tiiere  seemed  but  one  way  open  to  their  Siilvation, — but 
one  course  by  which  they  could  escape  from  the  engulfment 
that  threatened.  Tiiis  was  to  forego  any  further  attempt 
at  wading,  to  fling  themselves  boldly  upon  the  waves,  aad 
swim  ashore ! 

Now  tliat  they  were  submerged  to  their  necks,  you  may 
wonder  at  their  noi  at  once  ado[)ting  tliis  plan.  It  is  true 
they  were  ignorant  of  the  distance  they  would  have  to  swim 


20  THE  BoY  SLAVES. 

before  reaching  the  shore.  Still  they  knew  it  could  not  h« 
more  than  a  couple  of  miles ;  for  they  had  already  traversed 
quite  that  distance  on  the  diagonal  spit.  But  two  miles 
need  scarce  have  made  thera  despair,  with  both  wind  and 
tide  in  their  favor. 

Why,  then,  did  they  hesitate  to  trust  themselves  to  the 
quick,  bold  stroke  of  the  swimmer,  instead  of  the  slow,  tim- 
id, tortoise-like  tread  of  the  wader  ? 

There  are  two  answers  to  this  question ;  for  there  were 
two  reasons  for  them  not  having  recourse  to  the  former  al- 
ternative. The  fii'St  was  selfish ;  or  rather,  should  we  call 
it  self-preservative.  There  was  a  doubt  in  the  minds  of  all, 
as  to  their  ability  to  reach  the  shore  by  swimming.  It  was 
a  broad  bay  that  had  been  seen  before  sundown  ;  and  once 
launched  upon  its  bosom,  it  was  a  question  whether  any  of 
them  would  have  strength  to  cross  it.  Once  launched  upon 
its  bosom,  there  would  be  no  getting  back  to  the  shoal  water 
through  which  they  were  wading ;  the  tidal  current  would 
prevent  return. 

This  consideration  was  backed  by  another,  -=—  a  lingering 
belief  or  hope  that  the  tide  might  already  have  reached  its 
highest,  and  would  soon  be  on  the  "turn."  This  hope, 
though  faint,  exerted  an  influence  on  the  waders,  —  as  yet 
sufficient  to  restrain  them  from  becoming  swimmers.  But 
even  after  this  could  no  longer  have  prevailed,  —  even  v/hea 
the  waves  began  to  surge  over,  threatening  at  each  fresh 
"  sea  "  to  scatter  the  shivering  castaways  and  swallow  them 
one  by  one,  —  there  wa?  another  thought  that  kept  them  tu- 
gcthor. 

It  was  a  thought  neither  of  self  nor  self-preservation  ; 
but  a  generous  instinct,  that  even  in  that  perilous  crisis  w&? 
stirring  within  their  hearts. 

Instinct!  No.  It  was  a  thought,  —  an  impulse  if  you 
will ;  but  something  higher  than  an  instinct. 

Shall  I  declare  it  ?     Undoubtedly,  I  shall.     Noble  emr> 


A  COMPULSORY  PARTING.  21 

tions  should  not  be  concealed ;  and  the  one  wbicli  at  tbat 
moment  throbbed  within  the  bosoms  of  the  castaways,  was 
truly  noble. 

There  were  but  three  of  them  who  felt  it.  The  fourth 
could  not :  he  could  not  swim  ! 

Surely  the  reader  needs  no  further  explanation  ? 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A    COMPTILSORT  PARTING. 

kNE  of  the  four  castaways  could  not  swim.  Which  one  ? 
You  will  expect  to  hear  that  it  was  one  of  the  three 
midshipmen  ;  and  w^ill  be  conjecturing  whether  it  was  Harry 
Blount,  Terence  O'Connor,  or  Colin  Macpherson. 

My.  English  boy -readers  would  scarce  believe  rae,  were  I 
to  say  that  it  was  Harry  who  was  wanting  in  this  useful  ac- 
complishment. Equally  incredulous  would  be  my  Irish  and 
Scotch  constituency,  were  I  to  deny  the  possession  of  it  to 
the  representatives  of  their  respective  countries,  —  Terence 
and  Colin. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  offend  the  natural  amour  propre  of 
my  young  readers ;  and  in  the  present  case  I  have  no  fact 
to  record  that  would  imply  any  national  superiority  or  dis- 
advantage. The  castaway  who  could  not  swim  was  that  pe- 
culiar hybrid,  or  tribrid,  already  described ;  who,  for  any 
characteristic  he  carried  about  him,  might  liave  been  born 
either  upon  the  banks  of  the  Clyde,  the  Thames,  or  the 
Shannon ! 

It  was  "  Old  Bill "  who  was  deficient  in  natatory  prowess: 
Old  Bill  the  sailor. 

It  may  be  wondered  that  one  who  has  £pent  nearly  th« 


22  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

whola  of  his  Ivfe  on  tlie  sea  should  be  wanting  in  an  accom 
plishment,  apparently  and  really,  so  essential  to  such  a  cull 
ing.  Cases  of  the  kind,  however,  are  by  no  means  uncom* 
5fion ;  and  in  a  ship's  crew  there  will  often  be  found  a  laiga 
number  of  men,  —  sometimes  the  very  best  sailors,  —  who 
cannot  swim  a  stroke. 

Those  who  have  neglected  to  cultivate  this  useful  art, 
when  boys,  rarely  acquire  it  after  they  grow  up  to  be  men ; 
or,  if  they  do,  it  is  only  in  an  indifferent  manner.  On  the 
sea,  though  it  may  appear  a  paradox,  there  ai'e  far  fewer 
opportunities  for  practising  the  art  of  swimming  than  upon 
its  shores.  Aboard  a  ship,  on  her  course,  the  chances  of 
"  bathing  "  are  but  few  and  far  between  ;  and,  while  in  port; 
the  sailor  has  usually  something  else  to  do  than  spend  hia 
idle  hours  in  disporting  himself  upon  the  waves.  The  sail- 
or, when  ashore,  seeks  for  some  sport  more  attractive. 

As  Old  Bill  had  been  at  sea  ever  since  he  was  able  to 
stand  upon  the  deck  of  a  ship,  he  had  neglected  this  usefi-.l 
art ;  and  though  in  every  other  respect  an  accomplished 
sailor  —  rated  A.B.,  No.  1  — he  could  not  swim  six  lengths 
of  his  own  body. 

It  was  a  noble  instinct  which  prompted  his  three  youthful 
companions  to  remain  by  him  in  that  critical  moment,  when, 
by  flinging  themselves  upon  the  waves,  they  might  have 
•lined  the  shore  without  difficulty. 

Although  the  bay  might  be  nearly  two  miles  in  width 
there  could  not  be  more  than  half  that  distance  beyond  their 
depth, — judging  by  the  shoal  appearance  which  the  coast 
had  exhibited  as  they  were  approacliing  it  before  sundown. 

All  three  felt  certain  of  being  able  to  save  themselves ; 
but  what  would  become  of  their  companion,  the  sailor? 

"  We  cannot  leave  you.  Bill ! "  cried  Harry :  "  we  will 
not ! " 

"  No,  that  we  can't :  we  won't ! "  said  Terence. 

"  We  can't,  and  won't,"  asseverated  Colin,  with  Vke  eiD» 


A  COMPULSORY  PARTINO.  23 

These  generous  declarations  were  in  answer  to  an  equally 
generous  proposal :  in  which  the  sailor  had  urged  them  to 
make  for  the  shore,  and  leave  him  to  his  fate. 

"  Ye  must,  my  lads  ! "  he  cried  out,  repeat.ng  his  proposi- 
tion. "  Don't  mind  about  me  ;  look  to  yersels  !  Och  !  shure 
I  'm  only  a  weather-washed,  worn-out  old  salt,  'ardly  worth 
savin'.  Go  now  —  off  wi'  ye  at  onest !  The  water  '11  ba 
over  ye,  if  ye  stand  'eer  tin  minutes  longer." 

The  three  youths  scrutinized  each  other's  faces,  as  far  as 
the  darkness  would  allow  them.  Each  tried  to  read  in  the 
countenances  of  the  other  two  some  sign  that  might  deter- 
mine liim.  The  water  was  already  washing  around  their 
shoulders ;  it  was  with  difficulty  they  could  keep  their  feet. 

"  Let  loose,  lads  ! "  cried  Old  Bill ;  "  let  loose,  I  say !  and 
swim  richt  for  the  shore.  Don't  think  o'  me ;  it  bean't  cer- 
tain I  shan't  weather  it  yet.  I  'm  the  whole  av  my  head 
taller  than  the  tallest  av  ye.  The  tide  may  r.'t  full  any 
higher ;  an'  if  it  don't  I  '11  get  safe  out  after  all.  Let  loose, 
lads  —  let  loose  I  tell  ye  ! " 

This  command  of  the  old  sailor  for  his  young  comrades  to 
forsake  him  was  backed  by  a  far  more  irresistible  influence, 
—  one  against  which  even  their  noble  instincts  could  no 
longer  contend. 

At  that  moment,  a  wave,  of  greater  elevation  than  any 
that  had  preceded  it,  came  rolling  along ;  and  the  three  mid- 
shipmen, lifted  upon  its  swell,  were  borne  nearly  half  a 
cable's  length  from  the  spot  where  they  had  been  standing. 

In  vain  did  they  endeavor  to  recover  their  feet.  They 
had  been  carried  into  deep  water,  where  the  tallest  of  them 
could  not  touch  bottom. 

For  some  seconds  they  struggled  on  the  top  of  the  swell, 
their  faces  turned  towards  the  spot  from  which  they  had 
been  swept.  They  were  close  together.  All  three  seemed 
dedircus  of  making  back  to  that  darV,  solitary  speck,  pra 


24  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

truding  above  the  sui-face,  and  wliicli  they  knew  to  be  tin 
head  of  Old  Bill.     Still  did  they  hesitate  to  forsake  liim. 

Once  more  his  voice  sounded  in  their  ears. 

*'  Och,  boys ! "  cried  he,  "  don't  thry  to  come  back.  It  'a 
no  use  whatever.  Lave  me  to  my  fate,  an'  save  ycrsels 
The  tide  's  'ard  against  ye.  Turn,  an'  follow  it,  as  I  tell  ye. 
It  '11  carry  ye  safe  to  the  shore ;  an'  if  I  'm  washed  afther 
ye,  bury  me  on  the  bache.  Farewell,  brave  boys,  —  fare 
well!" 

To  the  individuals  tlms  apostrophized,  it  was  a  sorrowful 
adieu ;  and,  could  they  have  done  anything  to  save  the 
sailor,  there  was  not  one  of  the  three  who  would  not  have 
risked  his  life  over  and  over  again.  But  all  were  impressed 
with  the  hopelessness  of  rendering  any  succor ;  and  under 
the  still  further  discouragement  caused  by  another  huge 
wave,  that  came  swelling  up  under  their  chins,  they  turned 
gimultaneously  in  the  water  ;  and,  taking  the  tidal  current 
for  their  guide,  sv/am  with  all  their  strength  towards  the 
shore. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

SAFE    ASnOKE. 

THE  swim  proved  shorter  than  any  of  them  had  antici- 
pated. They  had  scarce  made  half  a  mile  across  the 
bay,  when  Terence,  who  was  the  worst  swimmer  of  the 
three  and  who  had  been  allowing  his  legs  to  droop,  struck 
his  toes  against  something  more  substantial  than  salt  watdr 
"  r  faith  !  "  gasped  he,  with  exhausted  breath,  "  I  th.ink 
I  've  touched  bottom.  Blessed  be  the  Virgin,  I  have  !  "  he 
continued,  at  the  same  time  standing  erect,  with  head  and 
shoulders  above  the  surface  of  the  water. 


SAFE  ASHORE.  25 

•All  right!"  cried  Harry,  imitating  the  upright  attitade 
of  the  young  Hiberniiin.  "  Bottom  it  must  be,  and  bottom 
it  is.     Thank  God  for  it ! " 

Colin,  with  a  simihxr  grateful  ejaculation,  suspended  his 
gtroke,  and  stood  upon  his  feet. 

All  three  instinctively  faced  seaward  —  as  they  did  so, 
exclaiming  — 

"  Poor  Old  Bill !  " 

"  In  troth,  we  might  have  brought  him  along  with  us ! " 
suggested  Terence,  as  soon  as  he  had  recovered  his  wind ; 
"might  we  not?" 

"  If  we  had  but  known  it  was  so  short  a  swim,"  said  Har- 
ry, "  it  is  possible." 

"  How  about  our  trying  to  swim  back  ?  Do  you  think  we 
could  do  it  ?  " 

"  Impossible  ! "  asserted  Colin. 

"  What,  Colin,  you  are  the  best  swimmer  of  us  all !  Do 
you  say  so  ?  "  asked  the  others,  eager  to  make  an  effort  for 
saving  the  old  salt,  who  had  been  the  favorite  of  every  offi- 
cer aboard  the  ship. 

"  I  say  impossible,"  replied  the  cautious  Colin  ;  "  I  would 
risk  as  much  as  any  of  you,  but  there  is  not  a  reasonable 
chance  of  saving  him,  and  what 's  the  use  of  trying  impossi- 
bilities ?  "We  'd  better  make  sure  that  we  're  safe  ourselves. 
There  may  be  more  deep  water  between  us  and  the  shore. 
Let  us  keep  on  till  we  've  set  our  feet  on  something  mora 
like  terra  firma." 

The  advice  of  the  young  Scotchman  was  too  prudent  to 
be  rejected;  and  all  three,  once  more  turning  their  faces 
shoreward,  continued  to  advance  in  that  direction. 

They  only  knew  that  they  were  facing  shoreward  by  the 
inflow  of  the  tide,  but  certain  that  this  would  prove  a  toler- 
ably safe  guide,  they  kept  boldly  on,  without  fear  of  stray- 
ing from  the  track. 

For  a  while  they  waded ;  but,  as  their  progress  was  both 
2 


26  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

slowei"  and  more  toilsome,  they  once  more  betook  tliemselvea 
to  swimmiug.  Whenever  they  felt  fatigued  by  either  mode 
of  progression,  they  changed  to  the  other ;  and  partly  by 
wading  and  partly  by  swimming,  they  passed  through  anoth- 
er mile  of  the  distance  that  separated  them  from  the  shore. 
The  water  then  became  so  shallow,  that  swimming  was  no 
longer  possible ;  and  they  waded  on,  with  eyes  earnestly 
piercing  the  darkness,  each  moment  expecting  to  see  some- 
thing of  the  land. 

They  were  soon  to  be  gratiflgd  by  having  this  expectation 
realized.  The  curving  lines  that  began  to  glimmer  dimly 
through  the  obscurity,  were  the  outlines  of  rounded  objects 
that  cotdd  not  be  ocean  waves.  They  were  too  white  for 
these.  They  could  only  be  the  sandhills,  which  they  had 
Been  before  the  going  down  of  the  sun.  As  they  were  now 
but  knee-deep  in  the  water,  and  the  night  was  still  misty 
and  dark,  these  objects  could  be  at  no  great  distance,  and 
deep  water  need  no  longer  be  dreaded. 

The  three  castaways  considered  themselves  as  having 
reached  the  shore. 

Harry  and  Terence  were  about  to  continue  on  to  the 
beach,  when  Colin  called  to  them  to  come  to  a  stop. 

"  Why  ?  "  inquired  Harry. 

*'  What  for  ?  "  asked  Terence. 

"  Before  touching  dry  land,"  suggested  the  thoughtful  Co 
lin,  "  suppose  we  decide  what  has  been  the  fate  of  poor  Old 
BUI." 

"How  can  we  tell  that?"  interrogated  the  other  two. 

"  Stand  still  awhile ;  w^e  shall  soon  see  whether  his  heac 
is  yet  above  water." 

Harry  and  Terence  consented  to  the  proposal  of  theif 
comrade,  but  without  exactly  comprcliending  its  import. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Coley  ?  "  asked  the  impatient  Hi 
berniau. 

"  To  see  if  the  tide's  still  rising,"  was  the  explanation 
given  by  the  Scotch  youth. 


SAFE  ASHORE.  27 

»■*  And  what  if  il  be  ?  "  demanded  Terence. 

"  On\y,  that  if  it  be,  we  ivill  never  more  see  tbe  old  sailor 
iu  the  land  of  the  living.  We  may  look  for  his  lifeless  corpse 
»fter  it  has  been  washed  ashore." 

"  Ah  !  I  comprehend  you,"  said  Terence. 

"  You  're  right,"  added  Harry.  "  If  the  tide  be  still  rising, 
Old  Bill  is  under  it  by  this  time.  I  dare  say  his  body  will 
drift  ashore  before  morning." 

They  stood  still,  —  all  three  of  them.  They  watched  the 
water,  as  it  rippled  up  against  their  limbs,  taking  note  of  its 
ebbing  and  flowing.  They  watched  with  eyes  full  of  anx- 
ious solicitude.  They  continued  this  curious  vigil  for  full 
twenty  minutes.  They  would  have  patiently  prolonged  it 
Etill  further  had  it  beeu  necessary.  But  it  was  not.  No 
further  observation  was  required  to  convince  them  that  the 
tidal  current  was  still  carried  towards  the  shore ;  and  that 
the  water  was  yet  deepening  around  them. 

The  data  thus  obtained  were  sufficient  to  guide  them  to 
the  solution  of  the  sad  problem.  During  that  interval,  while 
they  were  swimming  and  wading  across  the  bay,  the  tide 
must  have  been  continually  on  the  increase.  It  must  have 
risen  at  least  a  yard.  A  foot  would  be  sufficient  to  have 
submerged  the  sailor  :  smce  he  could  not  swim.  There  was 
but  one  conclusion  to  which  they  could  come.  Their  com- 
panion must  have  been  drowned. 

"With  heavy  hearts  they  turned  their  faces  toward  the 
shore,  —  thinking  more  of  the  sad  fate  of  the  sailor  than 
theu'  own  future. 

Scarce  had  they  proceeded  a  dozen  steps,  when  a  shout, 
heard  from  behind,  caused  them  to  come  to  a  sudden  stop. 

"  Avast  there !  "  cried  a  voice  that  seemed  to  rise  from 
out  the  depths  of  the  sea. 

"  It 's  Bill ! "  exclaimed  all  three  in  the  same  breath. 

"  'Old  on  my  'arties,  if  that 's  yerselves  that  I  see !  ' 
cwitinued  the  voice.     "  Arrah,  'old  on  there.     I  'm  so  tirijd 


28  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

ivadin',  I  want  a  short  spell  to  rest  myself.  "Wait  now,  aiij 
I  '11  come  to  ycz,  as  soon  as  I  can  take  a  reef  out  of  my 
tops'ls." 

The  joy  caused  by  this  gi-eeting,  great  as  it  was,  was 
scarce  equal  to  the  surprise  it  inspired.  They  who  heard  it 
were  for  some  seconds  incredulous.  The  sound  of  the  sail- 
or's voice,  well  known  as  it  was,  with  something  like  the 
figure  of  a  human  being  dimly  seen  through  the  uncertain 
mist  that  shadowed  the  surface  of  the  water  was  proof 
that  he  still  lived  ;  while,  but  the  moment  before,  there  ap- 
peared substantial  proof  that  he  must  have  gone  to  the  bot- 
tom. Their  incredulity  even  continued,  till  more  positive 
evidence  to  the  contrary  came  before  them,  in  the  shape  of 
the  old  man-o'-war's-man  himself;  who,  rapidly  splashing 
through  the  more  shallow  water,  in  a  few  seconds  stood 
face  to  face  with  the  three  brave  boys  whom  he  had  so 
lately  urged  to  abandon  him. 

"  Bill,  is  it  you  ?  "  cried  all  three  in  a  breath. 

"  Auch  !  and  who  else  would  yez  expect  it  to  be  ?  Did 
yez  take  me  for  'ould  Neptune  risin'  hout  of  the  say  ?  Or 
did  yez  think  I  was  a  mare-maid  ?  Gee  me  a  grip  o'  yer 
wee  lists,  ye  bonny  boys.  Ole  Bill  warn't  born  to  be 
drowned ! " 

"  But  how  did  ye  come,  Bill  ?  The  tide  's  been  rising 
ever  since  we  left  you." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Terence,  "  I  see  how  it  is,  the  bay  isn't  so 
deep  after  all :  you've  waded  all  the  way." 

"  Avast  there,  master  Terry !  not  half  the  way,  thougli 
I've  waded  part  of  it.  There's  wather  between  here  and 
where  you  left  me,  deep  enough  to  dhrown  Phil  Macool.  [ 
did  n't  crass  the  bay  by  wading  at  all  —  at  all." 

«  How  then  ?  " 

**  I  was  ferried  on  a  nate  little  ci'aft  —  as  yez  all  knowfc 
of —  the  same  that  carried  us  safe  to  the  sana-spit." 

"  The  spar  *  " 


UNCOMFORTABLE   QUARTERS.  29 

*  Hexactly  as  je  say.  Just  as  I  was  about  to  gee  my 
last  gasp,  something  struck  me  on  the  back  o'  the  he^d,  mak 
ing  me  duck  under  the  wather.  What  was  that  but  Jie 
tops'l  yard.  Hech !  I  was  na  long  in  mountin'  on  to  it. 
I've  left  it  out  there  afther  I  feeled  my  toes  traiJin'  along 
the  bottom.  Now,  my  bonny  babies,  that's  how  Old  Bill 's 
been  able  to  rejoin  ye.  Flippers  all  round  once  more ;  and 
then  let 's  see  what  sort  o'  a  shore  we  've  got  to  make  port 
upon." 

An  enthusiastic  shake  of  the  hands  passed  between  the 
old  sailor  and  his  youthful  companions;  after  which  the  faces 
of  all  were  turned  towards  the  shore,  still  only  dimly  distio- 
guishable,  and  uninviting  as  seen,  but  more  welcome  to  the 
sight  than  the  wilderness  of  water  stretcliing  as  if  to  infmitr 
behind  them. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

UNCOMFORTABLE    QUARTERS. 

THE  waders  had  still  some  distance  to  go  before  reach- 
ing dryland;  but,  after  splashing  for  about  twenty 
minutes  longer,  they  at  length  stood  upon  the  shore.  Aa 
the  tide  was  still  flowing  in  they  continued  up  the  beach ; 
80  as  to  place  themselves  beyond  the  reach  of  the  water,  in 
the  event  of  its  rising  still  higher. 

They  had  to  cross  a  wide  stretch  of  wet  sand  before  they 
could  find  a  spot  sufficiently  elevated  to  secure  them  against 
the  further  influx  of  the  tide.  Having,  at  length,  discov- 
ered such  a  spot,  they  stopped  to  deliberate  on  what  was 
best  to  be  done. 

They  would  fain  have  had  a  fire  to  (h-y  their  drijping 


30  THE  BOY  SLA\T:S. 

garments :  for  tlie  night  Lad  grown  chilly  undei  the  rac 
fluence  6f  the  fog. 

The  old  sailor  had  his  flint,  steel,  and  tinder  —  the  latter 
still  safe  in  its  water-tight  tin  box ;  but  there  was  no  fuel 
to  be  found  near.  Tlie  spar,  even  could  they  have  broken 
it  up,  was  still  floating,  or  stranded,  in  the  shoal  water  — 
more  than  a  mile  to  seaward. 

In  the  absence  of  a  fire  they  adopted  the  only  other 
mode  they  could  think  of  to  get  a  little  of  the  water  out  of 
their  clothes.  They  stripped  themselves  to  the  skin,  wrung 
out  each  article  separately ;  and  then,  giving  each  a  good 
Bhake,  put  them  on  again  —  leaving  it  to  the  natural  warmth 
of  their  bodies  to  complete  the  process  of  drying. 

By  the  time  they  had  finished  tliis  operation,  the  mist 
had  become  sensibly  thinner  ;  and  the  moon,  suddenly 
emerging  from  under  a  cloud,  enabled  them  to  obtain  a  bet- 
t<3r  view  of  the  shore  upon  which  they  had  set  foot. 

Landward,  as  far  as  they  could  see,  there  appeared  to  be 
nothing  but  white  sand  —  shining  like  silver  under  the  light 
of  the  moon.  Up  and  down  the  coast  the  same  landscape 
could  be  dimly  distinguished. 

It  was  not  a  level  surface  that  was  thus  covered  with 
sand,  but  a  conglomeration  of  hillocks  and  ridges,  blending 
uito  each  other  and  forming  a  labyrinth,  that  seemed  to 
stretch  interminably  on  all  sides  —  except  towards  the  sea 
itself. 

It  occurred  to  them  to  climb  to  the  highest  of  the  hil- 
locks. From  its  summit  they  would  have  a  better  view  of 
the  country  beyond  ;  and  perhaps  discover  a  place  suitable 
for  an  encampment  —  perhaps  some  timber  might  then  come 
into  vi«w  —  fnm  which  they  would  be  able  to  obtain  a  few 
sticks. 

On  attempting  to  scale  the  "  dune,"  they  found  that  their 
wading  was  not  yet  at  an  end.  Though  no  longer  in  th« 
water,  they  sank  to  their  knees  at  every  step,  in  soft  yioldr 
ing  sand. 


UNCOMFORTABLE  QUARTERS.  31 

The  ascent  of  the  hillock,  though  scarce  a  hundred  feet 
high,  proved  exceedingly  toilsome  —  much  more  so  than 
wading  knee-deep  in  water  —  but  they  floundered  on,  and 
at  length  reached  the  summit. 

To  the  right,  to  the  left,  in  front  of  them,  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  nothing  but  hills  and  ridges  of  sand  —  that  ap- 
peared under  the  moonlight  of  a  whiteness  approaching  to 
that  of  snow.  In  fact,  it  would  not  have  been  difficult  to 
fancy  that  the  country  was  covered  with  a  heavy  coat  of 
snow  —  as  often  seen  in  Sweden,  or  the  Northern  parts  of 
Scotland  —  drifted  into  "  wreaths,"  and  spurred  hillocks  of 
every  imaginable  form. 

It  was  pretty,  but  soon  became  painful  from  its  monotony; 
and  the  eyes  of  that  shipwrecked  quartette  were  even  glad 
to  turn  once  more  to  the  scarce  less  monotonous  blue  of  the 
ocean. 

Inland,  they  could  perceive  other  sand-hills  —  higher 
than  that  to  which  they  had  climbed  —  and  long  crested 
"  combings,"  with  deep  valleys  between  ;  but  not  one  object 
to  gladden  their  sight  —  nothing  that  offered  promise  of 
either  food,  drink,  or  shelter. 

Had  it  not  been  for  their  fatigue  they  might  have  gone 
farther.  Since  the  moon  had  consented  to  show  herself, 
there  was  light  enough  to  travel  by ;  and  they  might  have 
proceeded  on  —  either  through  the  sand-dunes  or  along  the 
shore.  But  of  the  four  there  was  not  one  —  not  even  the 
tough  old  tar  himself — who  was  not  regularly  done  up, 
both  with  weariness  of  body  and  spirit.  The  short  slumber 
upon  the  spit  —  from  which  they  had  been  so  unexpectedly 
Btartled  —  had  refreshed  them  but  little  ;  and,  as  they  stood 
upon  the  summit  of  the  sand-hill,  all  four  felt  as  if  they 
could  drop  down,  and  go  to  sleep  on  the  instant. 

It  was  a  couch  sufficiently  inviting,  and  they  would  at  once 
have  availed  themselves  of  it,  but  for  a  circumstance  that 
suggested  to  them  the  idea  of  seeking  a  still  better  place  foT 
repose. 


32  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

The  land  wind  was  blowing  in  from  the  ocean ;  and,  ao* 
cordinc;  to  the  forecast  of  Old  Bill  —  a  great  practical  me- 
teorologist, —  it  promised  ere  long  to  become  a  gale.  It  waa 
already  sufficiently  violent  —  and  chill  to  boot  —  to  maka 
the  situation  on  the  summit  of  the  dune  anything  but  com- 
fortable. There  was  no  reason  why  they  should  make  their 
couch  upon  that  exposed  prominence.  Just  on  the  land 
ward  side  of  the  hillock  itself — below,  at  its  base — thej 
perceived  a  more  sheltered  situation  ;  and  why  not  select  that 
spot  for  their  resting  place  ? 

There  was  no  reason  why  they  should  not.  Old  Bill 
proposed  it ;  there  was  no  opposition  offered  by  his  young 
companions,  —  and,  without  further  parley,  the  four  went 
floundering  down  the  sloping  side  of  the  sand-hill,  into  the 
sheltered  convexity  at  its  base. 

On  arriving  at  the  bottom,  they  found  themselves  in  the 
narrowest  of  ravines.  The  hillock  from  which  they  had  de- 
scended was  but  the  highest  summit  of  a  long  ridge,  trending 
in  the  same  direction  as  the  coast.  Another  ridge,  of  about 
equal  height,  ran  parallel  to  this  on  the  landward  side.  The 
bases  of  the  two  approached  so  near,  that  their  sloping  sides 
formed  an  angle  with  each  other.  On  account  of  the  abrupt 
acclivity  of  both,  this  angle  was  almost  acute,  and  the  ravine 
between  the  two  resembled  a  cavity  out  of  which  some  great 
wedge  had  been  cut,  -^  like  a  section  taken  from  the  side  of 
a  gigantic  melon. 

It  was  in  this  re-entrant  angle  that  the  castaAvays  foimd 
themselves,  after  descending  the  side  of  the  dune,  and  Vhere 
they  had  proposed  spending  the  remainder  of  the  night. 

They  were  somewhat  disappointed  on  reaching  their 
sleeping-quarters,  and  finding  them  so  liraiied  as  to  space 
In  the  bottom  of  the  ravine  there  was  not  breadth  enough 
for  a  bed,  —  even  for  the  shortest  of  the  party,  —  supposing 
him  desirous  of  sleeping  in  a  horizontal  position. 

There  were  not  six  feet  of  surface  —  nor  even  three  — 


r-NCOMFORTABLE  QUARTERS.  33 

that  could  Rtiictly  be  called  horizontal.  Even  longitudi* 
Dally,  the  bottom  of  the  "  gully  "  had  a  sloping  inclination : 
for  the  ravine  itself  tended  upwards,  until  it  became  extin- 
guished in  the  convergerce  of  its  inclosing  ridges. 

On  discovering  the  unexpected  "  strait  "  into  which  they 
had  launched  themselves,  our  adventurers  were  for  a  time 
nonplussed.  They  felt  inclined  to  proceed  farther  in  search 
of  a  "  better  bed,"  but  their  weariness  outweighed  this  in- 
clination ;  and,  after  some  hesitation,  they  resolved  to  remain 
n  the  "  ditch,"  into  which  they  had  so  unwillingly  descended. 
They  proceeded  therefore  to  encouch  tlieraselves. 

Their  first  attempt  was  made  by  placing  themselves  in  a 
half-standing  position  —  their  backs  supported  upon  the 
sloping  side  of  one  of  the  ridges,  with  their  feet  resting 
against  the  other.  So  long  as  they  kept  awake,  this  posi- 
tion was  both  easy  and  pleasant ;  but  the  moment  any  one 
of  them  closed  his  eyes  in  sleep,  —  and  this  was  an  event 
almost  instantaneous,  —  his  muscles,  relaxed  by  slumber, 
would  no  longer  have  the  strength  to  sustain  him ;  and  the 
consequence  would  be  an  uncomfortable  collapse  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  "  gully,"  where  anything  like  a  position  of  repose 
was  out  of  the  question. 

This  vexatious  interruption  of  their  slumbers  happening 
repeatedly,  at  length  roused  all  four  to  take  fresh  counsel  as 
to  choosing  a  fresh  couch. 

Terence  had  been  especially  annoyed  by  these  repeated 
disturbances ;  and  proclaimed  his  determination  not  to  sub- 
mit to  them  any  longer.  He  would  go  in  search  of  more 
**  comfortable  quarters." 

He  had  arisen  to  his  feet,  and  appeared  in  the  act  of  startr 
ing  off. 

"  We  had  better  not  separate,"  suggested  Harry  Blount. 
"If  we  do,  we  may  find  it  difficult  to  come  together 
again." 

"  There  's  something  in  what  you  say,  Hal,"  said  the  young 

2*  0 


S4  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Scotclimau.  "  It  will  not  do  for  us  to  lose  sigl  t  of  one  an- 
other.    What  does  Bill  say  to  it  ?  " 

"  I  say,  stay  here,"  put  in  the  voice  of  the  sailor.  "  It 
won't  do  to  stray  the  wan  from  the  t'  other.  No,  it  won't. 
Let  us  hol<i  fast,  thin,  where  we  *re  already  belayed." 

"  But  who  the  deuce  can  sleep  here  ?  "  remonstrated  the 
son  of  Firio.  "A  liard-worked  horse  can  sleep  standing; 
and  so  can  an  elephant,  they  say ;  but,  for  me,  I  'd  prefer 
six  feet  of  the  horizontal  —  even  if  it  were  a  hard  stone  — 
to  this  dope  of  the  softest  sand." 

"  Stay,  Terry  !  "  cried  Colin.     "  I  've  captured  an  idea." 

"  Ah  !  you  Scotch  are  always  capturing  something  — ■ 
whether  it  be  an  idea,  a  flea,  or  the  itch.  Let's  hear  what 
it  ij." 

"After  that  insult  to  ma  kin  tree,"  good-humoredly  ro- 
joined  Colin,  "  I  dinna  know  whuther  I  wuU." 

"  Come,  Colin,"  interrupted  Harry  Blount,  "  if  you  've 
any  good  counsel  to  give  us,  pray  don't  witlihold  it.  We 
can't  get  sleep,  standing  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees. 
Why  should  we  not  tiy  to  change  our  position  by  seeking 
another  place  ?  " 

"  Well,  Harry,  as  you  l;ave  made  the  request,  I  '11  tell 
you  what 's  just  come  into  my  mind.  I  only  feel  astonished 
it  did  n't  occur  to  any  of  us  sooner." 

"  Mother  av  Moses  1 "  cried  Terence,  jocularly  adopting 
his  native  brogue ;  "  and  why  don't  you  out  with  it  at 
wanse  ?  —  you  Scatch  are  the  thrue  rid-tape  of  society." 

"  Never  mind,  Colly  !  "  interposed  Blount ;  "  there  's  no 
time  to  listen  to  Terry's  badinage.  We're  all  too  sleepy 
for  jesting  ;  tell  us  what  you  've  got  in  your  mind." 

"  All  of  ye  do  as  you  see  me,  and,  I  'II  be  your  bail,  ye  'U 
aleep  sound  till  the  dawn  o'  the  day.     Good  night !  " 

As  Colin  pronounced  the  salutation  he  sank  down  to  the 
bottom  of  the  ravine,  where,  stretched  lo  igitudinally,  he 
might  repose  without  the  slightest  danger  of  being  awakened 
by  slipping  fi-om  his  couch. 


A  ilisfiiiiv  .iit.  ««.*k 


I 


.'llliiid!' 


i         «li 


'WARE  THE  SAND!  33 

On  seeing  him  tlius  disposed,  the  o. hers  only  wondered 
they  had  not  thought  of  the  thing  before. 

They  were  too  sleepy  to  speculate  long'  upon  their  own 
thoughtlessness  ;  and  one  after  the  other,  imitating  the  ex- 
ample set  them  by  tlie  young  Scotchman,  laid  their  bodies 
lengthwise  along  the  bottom  of  the  ravine,  and  entered  up- 
on the  enjoyment  of  a  slumber  from  which  all  the  kettle 
drums  in  creation  would  scarce  have  awaked  them. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

'ware  the  sand  ! 

AS  the  gully  m  which  they  had  gone  to  rest  was  too 
narrow  to  permit  of  them  lying  side  by  side,  they 
were  disposed  in  a  sort  of  lengthened  chain,  with  their  heads 
all  turned  in  the  same  direction.  The  bottom  of  the  ravine, 
as  already  stated,  had  a  slight  inclination ;  and  they  had,  of 
course,  placed  themselves  so  that  their  heads  should  be  high- 
er than  their  feet. 

The  old  sailor  was  at  the  lower  end  of  this  singular  se- 
ries, with  the  feet  of  Harry  Blount  just  above  the  crown  of 
his  head.  Above  the  head  of  Harry  were  the  heels  of  Ter- 
ence O'Connor;  and,  at  the  top  of  all,  reclined  Colin,  —  in 
the  place  where  he  had  first  stretched  himself. 

On  account  of  the  slope  of  the  ground,  the  four  were  thus 
disposed  in  a  sort  of  echelon  forma' ion,  of  which  Old  Bill 
was  the  base.  They  had  dropped  into  their  respective  po 
jitious,  one  after  the  other,  as  they  lay. 

The  sailor  had  been  the  last  to  commit  himself  to  this 
cu'-'ous  couch ;  he  was  also  the  last  to  surrender  to  sleep 
For  some  time  after  the  others  had  become  unconscious  of 


S6  THE  BOT  sla\t:s. 

outward  impressions,  he  lay  listening  to  the  "  sough  "  of  tht 
Bea,  and  the  sighing  of  the  breeze,  as  it  blew  along  tba 
smooth  sides  of  the  sandhills. 

He  did  not  remain  awake  for  any  great  length  of  tima 
He  was  weaned,  as  well  as  his  young  comrades  ;  and  soon 
elso  yielded  his  spirit  to  the  embrace  of  the  god  Som- 
nus. 

Before  doing  so,  however,  he  had  made  an  observation,  — 
one  of  a  character  not  likely  to  escape  the  notice  of  an  old 
mariner  such  as  he.  He  had  become  conscious  that  a  storm 
was  brewing  in  the  sky.  The  sudden  sliadowing  of  the 
heavens  ;  —  the  complete  disappearance  of  the  moon,  leav- 
ing even  the  white  landscape  in  darkness  ;  —  her  red  color 
as  she  went  out  of  sight;  —  the  increased  noise  caused  by 
the  roaring  of  the  breakers  ;  and  the  louder  "  swishing  "  of 
the  wind  itself,  which  began  to  blow  in  quick  gusty  puffs ; 
all  these  sights  and  sounds  admonished  him  that  a  gale  was 
coming  on. 

He  instinctively  noted  these  signs;  and  on  board  ship 
would  have  heeded  them,  —  so  far  as  to  have  alarmed  the 
sleeping  watch,  and  counselled  precaution. 

But  stretched  upon  terra  firma  —  not  so  very  firm  had  he 
but  known  it  —  between  two  huge  hills,  where  he  and  his 
companions  were  tolerably  well  sheltered  from  the  wind,  it 
never  occurred  to  tlie  old  salt,  that  they  could  be  in  any 
danger;  and  simply  muttering  to  himself,  "the  storm  ba 
blowed  ! "  he  laid  his  weather-beaten  face  upon  the  pillow 
of  soft  sand,  and  delivered  himself  up  to  deep  slumber. 

The  silent  prediction  of  the  sailor  turned  out  a  true  fore- 
cast. Sure  enough  there  came  a  storm ;  which,  before  the 
castaways  had  been  half  an  hour  asleep,  increased  to  a  tem- 
pest. It  was  one  of  those  sudden  uprisings  of  the  elements 
common  in  all  tropical  countries,  but  especially  so  in  the  des- 
ert tracts  of  Arabia  and  Africa,  —  where  the  atmosphere, 
rarefied  by  lieat,  and  becomuig  highly  volatile,  suddenly  loses 


•WARE  THE  sand!  3? 

its  equilibrium,  and  rushes  like  a  destroying  angel  over  tha 
surface  of  the  earth. 

The  phenomenon  that  had  broken  over  the  arenaceous 
couch,  —  upon  which  slept  the  four  castaways,  —  was  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  "  sandstorm  ; "  or,  to  give  it  its  Arab 
title,  a  simoom. 

The  misty  vapor  that  late  hung  suspended  in  the  atmos- 
phere had  been  swept  away  by  the  first  puff  of  the  wind ; 
and  its  place  was  now  occupied  by  a  cloud  equally  dense, 
though  perhaps  not  so  constant,  —  a  cloud  of  white  sand 
lifted  from  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  whirled  high  up  to- 
wards heaven,  —  even  far  out  over  the  waters  of  the  ocean. 

Had  it  been  daylight,  huge  volumes,  of  what  might  have 
appeared  dust,  might  have  been  seen  rolling  over  the  ridges 
of  sand,  —  here  swirling  into  rounded  pillar-like  shapes,  that 
could  easily  have  been  mistaken  for  solid  columns,  standing 
for  a  time  in  one  place,  then  stalking  over  the  summits  of 
the  hills,  or  suddenly  breaking  into  confused  and  cumbering 
masses  ;  while  the  heavier  particles,  no  longer  kept  in  sus- 
pension by  the  rotatory  whirl,  might  be  seen  spilling  back 
towards  the-  earth,  like  a  sand-shower  projected  downward 
through  some  gigantic  "  screen." 

In  the  midst  of  this  turbulent  tempest  of  wind  and  sand 
—  with  not  a  single  drop  of  rain,  —  the  castaways  continued 
to  sleep. 

One  might  suppose  —  as  did  the  old  man-o'-war's-man 
before  going  to  sleep  —  that  they  were  not  in  any  danger ; 
not  even  as  much  as  if  their  couch  had  been  under  the  re  of 
of  a  house,  or  strewn  amid  the  leaves  of  the  forest.  Thtre 
were  no  trees  to  be  blown  down  upon  them,  no  bricks  nor 
large  chimney-pots  to  come  crashing  through  the  ceiling, 
and  crush  them  as  they  lay  upon  their  beds. 

What  danger  could  there  be  among  the  "dunes?  " 

Not  much  to  a  man  awake,  and  with  open  eyes.  In,  such 
a  situation,  there  might  be  discomfort,  but  no  danger. 


38  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Different  however,  was  it  with  the  slumbering  castaways 
Over  them  a  peri]  was  suspended  —  a  real  peril  —  of  which 
perhaps,  on  that  night  not  one  of  them  was  dreaming  —  and 
in  which,  perhaps,  not  one  of  them  would  have  put  belief,  — ■ 
but  for  the  experience  of  it  they  were  destined  to  be  taught 
before  the  morning. 

Could  an  eye  have  looked  upon  them  as  they  lay,  it  would 
have  beheld  a  picture  sufficiently  suggestive  of  danger.  It 
would  have  seen  four  human  figures  stretched  along  the  bot- 
tom of  a  narrow  ravine,  longitudinally  aligned  with  one  an- 
other—  their  heads  all  turned  one  way,  and  in  point  of 
elevation  slightly  en  echelon — it  would  have  noted  that  these 
forms  were  asleep,  that  they  were  already  half  buried  in 
sand,  which,  apparently  descending  from  the  clouds  was  still 
settling  around  them  ;  and  that,  unless  one  or  other  of  them 
awoke,  all  four  should  certainly  become  "  smoored." 

What  does  this  mean?  Merely  a  slight  inconvenience 
arising  from  having  the  mouth,  ears,  and  nostrils  obstructed 
by  sand,  which  a  little  choking,  and  sneezing,  and  coughing 
would  soon  remove. 

Ask  the  Highland  shepherd  who  has  imprudently  gone  to 
sleep  under  the  "  blowin'  sna' "  ;  question  the  Scandinavian, 
whose  calling  compels  him  to  encamp  on  the  open  "  fjeld  " ; 
interrogate  Swede  or  Norwegian,  Finn  or  Lapp,  and  you 
may  discover  the  danger  of  being  "  smoored." 

That  would  be  in  the  snow,  —  the  light,  vascular,  porous, 
permeable  snow,  —  under  which  a  human  being  may  move, 
and  through  which  he  may  breathe,  —  though  tons  of  it  may 
be  superpoised  above  his  body,  —  the  snow  that,  while  im- 
prisoning its  victim,  also  gives  him'  warmth,  and  affords  him 
Bhelter,  —  perilous  as  that  shelter  may  be. 

Ask  the  Arab  what  it  is  to  be  "  smoored  "  by  sand  ;  ques- 
tion the  wild  Bedouin  of  the  Bled-el-jereed,  —  the  Tuarick 
and  Tiboo  of  the  Eastern  Desert,  —  they  v^ill  tell  you  it  is 
danger  often  death! 


'WARE  THE  SANDl  39 

Little  dreamt  the  four  sleepers  as  they  lay  uncunscioua 
under  that  swirl  of  sand,  —  little  even  would  they  have  sus- 
pected, if  awake,  —  that  there  was  danger  in  the  situation. 

There  was,  for  all  that,  a  danger,  great  as  it  was  immi- 
nent, —  the  danger,  not  only  of  their  bemg  "  smoored,"  but 
stifled,  suffocated,  buried  fathoms  deep  under  the  sands  of 
the  Saiira,  for  fathoms  deep  will  often  be  the  drift  of  a 
single  night. 

The  Arabs  say  that,  once  "submerged"  beneath  the  are 
naceous  "  flood,"  a  man  loses  the  power  to  extricate  himself. 
His  energies  are  suspended,  his  senses  become  numbed  and 
torpid  —  in  short,  he  feels  as  one  who  goes  to  sleep  in  a 
snow-storm. 

It  may  be  true ;  but,  whether  or  no,  it  seemed  as  if  the 
four  English  castaways  had  been  stricken  with  this  inexpli 
cable  paralysis.  Despite  the  hoarse  roaring  of  the  breakers, 
despite  the  shrieking  and  whistling  of  the  wind,  despite  the 
dust  constantly  being  deposited  on  their  bodies,  and  entering 
ears,  mouth,  and  nostrils,  —  despite  the  stifling  sensation  one 
would  suppose  they  must  have  felt,  and  which  should  have 
awakened  them,  —  despite  all,  they  continued  to  sleep.  It 
seemed  as  if  that  sleep  was  to  be  eternal ! 

If  they  heard  not  the  storm  Ihat  raged  savagely  above 
them,  if  they  felt  not  the  sand  that  pressed  heavily  upon 
them,  what  was  there  to  warn,  what  to  aiouse  them  from 
that  ill -starred  slumber? 


4^  THE   BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER    XII. 

A   MYSTERIOUS    NIGHTMARE. 

THE  fcjr  castaways  had  been  asleep  for  a  couple  of 
hours,  —  tliat  is,  from  the  time  that,  following  the  ex- 
ample of  the  young  Scotchman,  they  had  stretched  them- 
selves along  the  bottom  of  the  ravine.  It  was  not  quite  an 
hour,  however,  since  the  commencement  of  the  sand-storm  ; 
and  yet  in  this  short  time  the  arenaceous  dust  had  accumu- 
lated to  the  thickness  of  several  inches  upon  their  bodies ; 
and  a  person  passing  the  spot,  or  even  stepping  right  over 
them,  could  not  have  told  that  four  human  beings  were  bur- 
ied beneath.  —  that  is,  upon  the  supposition  that  they  would 
have  lain  still,  and  not  got  startled  from  their  slumbers  by 
the  foot  thus  treading  upon  them. 

Perhaps  it  was  a  fortunate  circumstance  for  them,  that  by 
such  a  contingency  they  might  be  awakened,  and  that  by 
such  they  were  awakened. 

Otherwise  their  sleep  might  have  been  protracted  into  the 
still  deeper  sleep  —  from  which  there  is  no  awaking. 

All  four  had  begun  to  feel  —  if  any  sensation  while  asleep 
can  be  so  called  —  a  sense  of  suffocation,  accompanied  by  a 
heaviness  of  the  limbs  and  torpidity  in  the  joints,  —  as  if 
some  immense  weight  was  pressing  upon  their  bodies,  that 
rendered  it  impossible  for  them  to  stir  either  toe  or  finger 
It  was  a  sensation  similar  to  that  so  well  known,  and  so 
much  dreaded,  under  the  name  of  nightmare.  It  may  have 
been  the  very  same ;  and  was,  perhaps,  brought  on  as  much 
by  the  extreme  weariness  they  all  felt,  as  by  the  Buperiu- 
cumbent  weight  of  the  sand. 

Tlieir  heads,  lying  higher  than  their  bodies,  were  not  so 
deeply  buried  under  the  drift ;  which,  blown  lightly  oveJ 
their  faces,  still  permitted  the  atmosphere  to  puss  through  i* 


A  MYSTERIOUS  NIGHTMARE.  41 

Otherwise  tlieir  breathing  would  have  been  stopped  alto 
gether ;  and  death  must  have  been  the  necessary  conse- 
quence. 

Whether  it  was  a  genuine  nightmare  or  no,  it  was  accom* 
panied  by  all  the  horrors  of  this  phenomenon.  As  they  af- 
terwards declared,  all  four  felt  its  influence,  each  in  his  own 
way  dreaming  of  some  fearful  fascination  from  wliich  he 
could  make  no  effort  to  escape.  Strange  enough,  their 
dreams  were  different.  Harry  Blount  thought  he  was  M- 
ing  over  a  precipice;  Colin  that  a  gigantic  ogre  had  got 
hold  of  and  was  going  to  eat  him  up ;  while  the  young  Hi- 
bernian fancied  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  conflagration,  a 
dwelling  house  on  fire,  from  which  he  could  not  get  out ! 

Old  Bill's  delusion  was  more  in  keeping  with  their  situa- 
tion, —  or  at  least  with  that  out  of  which  they  had  lately 
escaped.  He  simply  supposed  that  he  was  submerged  in 
the  sea,  and  as  he  knew  he  could  not  swim,  it  was  but  nat- 
ural for  him  to  fancy  that  he  was  drowning. 

Still,  he  could  make  no  struggle ;  and,  as  he  would  have 
done  this,  whether  able  to  swim  or  not,  his  di-eam  did  nrl 
exactly  resemble  the  real  thing. 

The  sailor  was  the  first  to  escape  from  the  uncomfortable 
incubus  ;  though  there  was  but  an  instant  between  the 
awakening  of  all.  They  were  startled  out  of  their  sleep, 
one  after  another,  in  the  order  in  which  they  lay,,  and  in- 
versely to  that  in  which  they  had  lain  down. 

Their  awakening  was  as  mysterious  as  the  nightmaro 
itself,  and  scarce  relieved  them  from  the  horror  which  the 
latter  had  been  occasioning. 

All  felt  in  turn,  and  in  quick  succes.-^ion,  a  heavy  cnuhing 
pressure,  either  on  the  limbs  or  body,  which  had  the  effect, 
not  only  to  startle  them  from  their  sleep,  but  caused  them 
considerable  pain. 

Twice  was  tliis  pressure  applied,  almost  exactly  on  the 
game  spot,  aMd  with  scarce  a  second's  interval  between  the 


42  THE  BOY  SLA\T^S. 

applications.  It  could  not  well  have  been  repeated  a  third 
time  with  like  exactness,  even  had  such  been  the  design  of 
AThatever  creature  was  causing  it;  for,  after  the  second 
squeeze,  each  had  recovered  sulficient  consciousness  to  know 
he  was  in  danger  of  being  crushed,  and  make  a  desperate 
effort  to  withdraw  himself. 

The  exclamations,  proceeding  from  four  sets  of  lips,  told 
that  all  were  still  in  the  land  of  the  living ;  but  the  confused 
questioning  that  followed  did  nothing  towards  elucidatmg 
the  cause  of  that  sudden  and  almost  simultaneous  uprising. 

There  was  too  much  sneezing  and  coughing  to  permit  of 
anything  like  clear  or  coherent  speech.  The  shumu  was 
etill  blowing.  There  was  sand  in  the  mouths  and  nostrils 
of  all  four,  and  dust  in  their  eyes.  Their  talk  more  re- 
sembled the  jibbering  of  apes,  who  had  unwisely  intruded 
into  a  snuff  shop,  than  the  conversation  of  four  rational 
beings. 

It  was  some  time  before  any  one  of  them  could  shape  hia 
speech,  so  as  to  be  understood  by  the  others ;  and,  after  all 
had  at  length  succeeded  in  making  themselves  intelligible,  it 
was  found  that  each  had  the  same  story  to  tell.  Each  had 
felt  two  pressures  on  some  part  of  his  person  ;  and  had 
seen,  thougli  very  indistinctly,  some  huge  creature  passing 
over  him,  —  apparently  a  quadruped,  though  wliat  sort  of 
quadruped  none  of  them  could  tell.  All  they  knew  was, 
that  it  was  a  gigantic,  uncouth  creature,  with  a  narrow  body 
and  neck,  and  very  long  legs ;  and  that  it  had  feet  there 
could  be  no  doubt :  since  it  was  these  that  had  pressed  so 
heavily  upon  tliem. 

But  fjr  the  swirl  of  the  sand-storm,  and  the  dust  already 
in  their  eyes,  they  might  have  been  able  to  give  a  better 
description  of  the  creature  that  had  so  unceremoniously 
stepped  over  them.  These  impediments,  however,  had 
hi'idered  them  from  obtaining  a  fair  view  of  it;  and  soma 
animal,  —  grotesquely  shaped,  with  a  long  neck,  body,  and 


A  MYSTEaUUS  NIGHTMARE.  43 

legs,  —  was  tie  image  which  remained  in  the  excited  minda 
01  the  awakened  sleepers. 

Whatever  it  was,  they  were  all  sufficiently  frightened  to 
Btaud  for  some  time  trembling.  Just  awaking  from  such 
dreams,  it  was  but  natural  they  should  surrender  themselves 
to  strange  imaginings  ;  and  instead  of  endeavoring  to  iden- 
tify the  odd-looking  animal,  if  animal  it  was,  they  were 
rather  inclined  to  set  it  down  as  some  creature  of  a  super- 
natural kind. 

The  three  midshipmen  were  but  boys,  not  so  long  from 
the  nursery  as  to  have  altogether  escaped  from  the  weird 
influence  which  many  a  nursery  tale  had  wrapped  around 
them ;  and  as  for  old  Bill,  fiity  years  spent  in  "  ploughing 
the  ocean "  had  only  confirmed  him  in  the  belief,  that  the 
"  black  art "  is  not  so  mythical  as  philoso^Dhers  would  have 
us  think. 

So  frightened  were  all  four,  that,  after  the  first  ebullition 
of  their  surprise  had  subsided,  they  no  longer  gave  utter- 
ance to  speech,  but  stood  listening,  and  trembling  as  they 
listened.  Perhaps,  had  they  known  the  service  which  the 
intruder  had  done  for  them,  they  might  have  felt  gratitude 
towards  it,  instead  of  the  suspicion  and  dread  that  for  some 
moments  kept  them,  as  if  spell-bound,  in  their  places.     It 

did  not  occur  to  any  of  the  party,  that  that  strange  » 

mons  from  sleep  —  more  effective  than  the  half-whispered 
invitation  of  a  valet-de-cJiamhrey  or  tlie  I'inging  of  a  break- 
fast-bell—  had  in  all  probability  rescued  them  from  a  silent, 
but  certain  death. 

They  stood,  as  I  have  said,  listening.  Tliere  were  sev- 
eral distinct  sounds  that  saluted  their  ears.  There  was  the 
'*  sough  "  of  the  sea,  as  it  came  swelling  up  the  gorgf  ;  the 
"whish"  of  the  wind,  as  it  impinged  upon  the  crests  of  the 
ridges;  and  the  "swish  "of  the  sand  af  it  settled  around 
them. 

AU  tbes3  were  the  voices  of  inanimate  objects,  —  pheunm 


44  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

ena  of  nature,  easily  understood.  But,  rising  above  thom^ 
were  heard  sounds  of  a  different  character,  which,  though 
they  might  be  equally  natural,  were  not  equally  familiar  to 
those  who  Hstened  to  them. 

There  was  a  sort  of  dull  battering,  —  as  ii  some  gigantic 
creature  was  performing  a  Terpsichorean  feat  upon  the 
sand-bank  above  them ;  but  sharper  sounds  were  heard  at 
intervals,  —  screams  commingled  with  short  snortings,  both 
proclaiming  something  of  the  nature  of  a  struggle. 

Neither  in  the  screams  nor  the  snortings  was  there  any- 
thing that  the  listeners  could  identify  as  sounds  they  had 
ever  heard  before.  They  were  alike  perplexing  to  the  ears 
of  English,  Irish,  and  Scotch.  Even  old  Bill,  who  had 
heard,  sometime  or  other,  nearly  every  sound  known  to  cre- 
ation, could  not  classify  them. 

"  Divil  take  thim !  "  whispered  he  to  his  companions  ,  "  1 
dinna  know  what  to  make  av  it.     It  be  hawful  to  'ear  'em ! " 

"  Hark  ! "  ejaculated  Harry  Blount. 

"  Hish  ! "  exclaimed  Terence. 

«  Wheesh ! "  muttered  Colin.  "  It's  coming  nearer,  what- 
ever it  may  be.     Wheesh !  " 

There  could  be  no  doubt  about  the  truth  of  this  conjec- 
ture ;  for  as  the  caution  passed  from  the  lips  of  the  young 
~  ;otchman,  the  dull  hammering,  the  snorts,  and  the  un 
earthly  screams  were  evidently  drawing  nearer,  —  though 
the  creature  that  was  causing  them  was  unseen  through  the 
thick  sand-mist  still  surrounding  the  listeners.  These,  how- 
ever, heard  enough  to  know  that  some  heavy  body  was  mak- 
ing a  rapid  descent  down  the  sloping  gorge,  and  with  an  im- 
petuosity that  rendered  it  prudent  for  them  to  get  out  of  ita 
way. 

More  by  an  instinct,  than  from  any  correct  appreciation 
ot  the  danger,  all  four  fell  back  irom  the  narrow  trench  in 
which  they  had  been  standing,  —  each,  as  he  best  couM,  ro- 
treating  up  the  declivity  of  the  sand-hill. 


THE  MAHEERT.  -45 

S(]6i-oe  v((3r3  they  able  to  obtain  footing  in  their  new  posi- 
bvi,  when  the  sounds  they  had  heard  not  only  became 
louder  and  nearer,  but  the  creature  that  had  been  causing 
tnera  pa.?sed  close  to  their  feet,  —  so  close  that  most  of  them 
could  Iia\9  touched  it  with  their  toes. 

For  all  ihc\t,  not  one  of  the  party  could  tell  what  it  was  ; 
and  after  it  had  passed,  —  on  its  way  down  the  ravine,  — 
and  was  once  mere  lost  to  their  view  amid  the  swirling  sand, 
they  were  not  a  bit  further  advanced  in  their  knowledge  of 
the  strange  crea'.ure  that  had  come  so  near  crushing  out  their 
existence  with  itf  ponderous  weight ! 

All  that  they  had  been  able  to  see  was  a  conglomeration 
of  dark  objects,  —  resembling  the  head,  neck,  body,  and 
limbs  of  some  uncouth  animal,  —  while  the  sounds  that,  pro- 
ceeded from  it  were  like  utterances  that  might  have  come 
from  some  other  world  ;  for  certainly  they  had  but  slight 
resemblance  to  anything  the  castaways  had  ever  heard  in 
this  —  either  upon  sea,  oi  laud ! 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE    MAHERRT. 

171011  some  length  of  time  they  stood  conjecturing,  —  the 
boys  with  clasped  hands,  —  Old  Bill  near,  but  apart. 
During  this  time,  at  intervals,  they  continued  to  hear  the 
sounds  that  had  so  astonished  them  —  the  stamping,  the 
Bnoi  ts,  and  the  screaming,  though  they  no  longer  saw  the 
creature  that  caused  them. 

The  sand  gully  opened  towards  the  sea,  in  a  diagonal 
direction.  It  could  not  be  many  yards  to  the  spot,  where  it 
debouched  upon  the  level  of  the  beach;  ard  the  crfalure 


46  THE  BOY  SLA\'T:S. 

that  had  cansed  them  such  a  surprise  —  and  was  still  con 
tiauing  to  c«cupy  their  thoughts  —  must  have  reached  this 
level  surfiice :  though  not  to  suspend  its  exertions.  Every 
now  and  then  could  be  heard  the  same  repetition  of  dull 
noisas,  —  as  if  some  animal  was  kicking  itself  to  death,  — 
varied  by  trumpet-like  snorts  and  agonizing  screams,  which 
could  be  likened  to  the  cry  of  no  animal  upon  earth. 

But  that  the  castaways  knew  they  were  on  the  coast  of 
Africa,  —  that  continent  renowned  for  strange  existences,  — 
they  might  have  been  even  more  disposed  to  a  supernatural 
belief  in  what  was  near  them ;  but  as  the  minutes  passed, 
and  their  senses  began  to  return  to  them,  they  became  more 
inclined  to  think  that  what  they  had  seen,  heard,  and  felt, 
might  be  only  some  animal  —  a  heavy  quadruped  —  that 
had  trampled  over  them  in  their  sleep. 

The  chief  difficulty  in  reconciling  this  belief  with  the  ar 
tual  occurrence  was  the  odd  behavior  of  the  animal.  Why 
had  it  gone  up  the  gorge,  apparently  parenti  passu,  to  come 
tumbling  down  again  in  such  a  confused  fashion  ?  Why  was 
it  still  kicking  and  stumbling  about  at  the  bottom  of  the  ra- 
vine, —  for  such  did  the  sounds  proclaim  it  to  be  doing  ? 

No  answer  could  be  given  to  either  of  these  questions ; 
and  none  was  given,  until  day  dawned  over  tlie  sand-hills. 
This  was  soon  after ;  and  along  with  the  morning  light  had 
come  the  cessation  of  the  simoom. 

Then  saw  the  castaways  that  creature  that  had  so  abrupt- 
ly awakened  them  from  their  slumbers,  —  and,  by  so  doing, 
perhaps,  saved  their  lives.  They  saw  it  recumbent  at  the 
bottom  of  the  gorge,  where  they  had  so  uneasily  passed  the 
night. 

It  proved  to  be  —  what  from  the  slight  glimpse  they  had 
got  of  it,  they  were  inclined  to  believe  —  an  animal,  and  a 
qiradruped  ;  and  if  it  had  presented  an  uncouth  appearance, 
a3  it  stepped  over  them  In  the  darkness,  not  less  so  did  it 
Appear  as  tliey  now  beheld  it,  under  the  light  of  day. 


THE  MAHERRY.  47 

It  was  an  animal  of  very  large  size,  —  in  height  far  ex- 
ceeding a  horse,  —  but  of  such  a  grotesque  shape  as  to  U 
easily  recognizable  by  any  one  who  had  ever  glanced  into  a 
picture-book  of  quadrupeds.  Tiie  long  craning  neck,  witl- 
an  almost  earless  head  and  gibbous  profile  ;  the  great  strag 
gling  limbs,  callous  at  the  knees,  and  ending  in  broad,  wide 
splitting  hooves ;  the  slender  hind-quarters,  and  tiny,  tufted 
tail,  —  both  ludicrously  disproportioned,  —  the  tumid,  mis- 
shapen trunk ;  but,  above  all,  the  huge  hunch  rising  above 
the  shoulders,  at  once  proclaimed  the  creature  to  be  a  drome- 
dary. 

"  Och  !  it 's  only  a  kaymal !  "  cried  Old  Bill,  as  soon  as 
the  daylight  enabled  him  to  get  a  fair  view  of  the  animal. 
"  What  on  hearth  is  it  doin'  'ere  ?  " 

"  Sure  enough,"  suggested  Terence,  "  it  was  this  beast 
that  stepped  over  us  while  we  were  asleep!  It  almost 
squeezed  the  breath  out  of  mc,  for  it  set  its  hoof  right  upon 
the  pit  of  my  stomach." 

"The  same  with  me,"  said  Colin.  "It  simk  me  down 
nearly  a  foot  into  the  sand.  Ah,  we  have  reason  to  be 
thankful  there  was  that  drift-sand  over  our  bodies  at  the 
time.  If  not,  the  great  brute  might  have  crushed  us  to 
death ! " 

There  was  some  truth  in  Colin's  observation.  But  for 
tlie  covering  of  sand,  —  which  acted  as  a  cushion,  —  and  also 
from  that  which  formed  their  couch  yielding  beneal^i  them, 
the  hoof  of  the  great  quadruped  might  have  caused  them  a 
serious  injury.  As  it  was,  none  of  them  had  received  any 
hurt  beyond  the  fright  which  the  strange  intruder  had  occa- 
eioned  them. 

The  singular  incident  was  yet  only  half  explained.  They 
eaw  it  was  a  camel  that  had  disturbed  their  slumbers  ;  that 
the  animal  had  been 'on  its  way  up  the  ravine,  —  perhaps 
seeking  shelter  from  the  sand-storm  ;  but  what  had  caused 
it  to  return  so  suddenly  back  down  the  slope  ?    Abo\  e  all, 


43  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

why  had  it  made  the  downward  journey  in  such  a  siEgulai 
manner  ?  Obscure  as  had  been  their  view  of  it,  they  could 
see  that  it  did  not  go  on  all-fours,  but  apparently  tumbling 
and  struggling,  —  its  long  limbs  kicking  about  in  the  air,  as 
if  it  was  performing  the  descent  by  a  series  of  somersaults. 

Ail  this  had  been  mysterious  enough  ;  but  it  was  soon  ex- 
plained to  the  satisfiiction  of  the  four  castaways,  who,  as 
30on  as  they  saw  the  camel  by  the  bottom  of  the  gorge,  had 
rushed  down  and  surrounded  it. 

The  animal  was  in  a  recumbent  position,  —  not  as  if  it  had 
Iain  down  to  rest,  but  in  a  constrained  attitude,  with  its  long 
neck  drawn  in  towards  its  forelegs,  and  its  head  lying  low 
and  half-buried  in  the  sand  ! 

As  it  was  motionless  when  they  first  perceived  it,  they 
fancied  it  was  dead,  —  that  something  had  wounded  it 
above.  This  would  have  explained  the  fantastic  fashion  in 
which  it  had  returned  down  the  slope,  —  as  the  somersaults 
observed  might  have  been  only  a  series  of  death  struggles. 

On  getting  around  it,  however,  they  perceived  that  it  was 
aot  only  still  alive,  but  in  perfect  health ;  and  its  late  mys- 
terious movements  were  accounted  for  at  a  single  glance. 
A  strong  hair  halter,  firmly  noosed  around  its  head,  had  got 
caught  in  the  bifurcation  of  one  of  its  fore-hoofs,  where  a 
knot  upon  the  rope  had  hindered  it  from  slipping  through 
the  deep  split.  This  had  first  caused  it  to  trip  up,  and  tum- 
ble head  o-^er  heels,  —  inaugurating  that  series  of  struggles 
which  had  ended  in  transporting  it  back  to  the  bottorc  of 
Ihe  ravine,  —  wliere  it  now  lay  with  the  trailing  end  of  th« 
ong  halter  knotted  inextricably  around  its  legs. 


A  LIQUID  BREAKFAST.  49 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

A   LIQUID   BREAKFAST. 

MELANCHOLY  as  was  the  situation  of  the  self-caught 
camel,  it  was  a  joyful  sight  to  those  who  beheld  it. 
Hungry  as  they  were,  its  flesh  would  provide  them  with 
food ;  and  thirsting  as  they  were,  they  knew  that  iuside  ita 
stomach  would  be  found  a  supply  of  water ! 

Such  were  their  first  thoughts  as  they  came  around  it. 

Tliey  soon  perceived,  however,  that  to  satisfy  the  latter 
appetite  it  would  not  be  necessary  for  them  to  kill  the  camel. 
Upon  the  top  of  its  hump  was  a  small,  fiat  pad  or  saddle, 
firmly  held  in  its  place  by  a  strong  leathern  band  passing 
under  the  animal's  belly.  This  proved  it  to  be  a  "  maherry," 
or  riding  camel,  — ■■  one  of  those  swift  creatures  used  by  the 
Arabs  in  their  long  rapid  journeys  across  the  deserts ;  and 
which  are  common  among  the  tribes  inhabiting  the  Saara. 

It  was  not  this  saddle  that  gratified  the  eyes  of  our  ad- 
venturers, but  a  bag,  tightly  strapped  to  it,  and  resting  be- 
hind the  hump  of  the  maherry.  This  bag  was  of  goatskin, 
and  upon  examination  was  found  to  be  nearly  half-full  of 
water.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  "  Gerba,"  or  water-skin,  belonging 
to  whoever  had  been  the  owner  of  the  animal,  —  an  article 
of  camel   equipmcr.t   more  essential  than  the  saddle  itself. 

The  four  castaways,  suffering  the  torture  of  thirst,  EUade 
no  scruple  about  appropriating  the  contents  of  the  bag,  and, 
in  the  shortest  possible  time,  it  was  stripped  from  the  back 
of  the  maherry,  its  stopper  taken  out,  and  the  precious  fluid 
extracted  from  it  by  all  four,  in  greedy  succession,  until  ita 
light  weight  and  collapsed  sides  declared  it  to  be  empty. 

Their  thirst  being  thus  opportunely  assuaged,  a  council 
was  next  held,  as  to  what  they  should  do  to  appease  tl« 
other  appetite. 


50  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

Should  they  kill  the  camel  ? 

It  appeared  to  be  their  ouly  chance ;  and  the  impetuoui 
Terence  had  already  unsheathed  his  midshipman's  dirk,  with 
the  design  of  burying  it  in  the  body  of  the  animah 

Colin,  however,  more  prudent  in  counsel,  cried  to  hira  to 
hold  his  hand,  —  at  least  until  they  should  give  the  subject 
a  more  thorough  consideration. 

On  this  suggestion  they  proceeded  to  debate  the  point  be- 
tween them.  They  were  of  different  opinions,  and  equally 
divided.  Two,  —  Terence  and  Harry  Blount, —  were  for 
immediately  killing  the  maherry,  and  making  their  bi*eak- 
fast  upon  its  flesh ;  while  the  sailor  joined  Colin  m  voting 
that  it  should  be  reprieved. 

"  Let  us  first  make  use  of  the  animal  to  help  carry  u3 
somewhere,"  urged  the  young  Scotchman.  "  We  can  go 
without- food  a  day  longer.  Then,  if  we  find  nothing,  w^e  can 
butcher  this  beast." 

"But  what's  to  be  found  in  such  a  country  as  this?" 
inquired  Harry  Blount.  "  Look  around  you  !  There 's  noth- 
ing green  but  the  sea  itself.  There  is  n't  anything  eatable 
within  sight,  —  not  so  much  as  would  make  a  dinner  for  a 
dormouse ! " 

"  Perhaps,"  rejoined  Colin,  "  when  we  've  travelled  a  few 
miles,  w^e  may  come  upon  a  different  sort  of  country.  We 
can  keep  along  the  coast.  Why  should  n't  we  find  shell- 
fish, —  enough  to  keep  us  alive  ?  See,  —  yonder  's  a  daj'k 
place  down  upon  the  beach.  1  should  n't  wonder  if  there  'a 
Bome  there." 

The  glances  of  all  were  instantly  directed  towards  the 
beach,  —  exceptiLg  those  of  Sailor  Bill.  His  were  fixed  on 
a  different  object ;  and  an  exclamation  that  escaped  him — ■ 
ay  well  as  a  movement  that  accompanied  it  —  arrested  the 
attention  of  his  companions,  causing  them  to  turn  their  eyes 
upon  him. 

"  Shell-fish  be  blow'd,"  cried  Bill,  "  here  's  something 
better  for  breakiiist  than  cowld  oysters.     Look  ! " 


A  LUUID  BREAKFAST.  51 

♦♦  The  sailor,  as  he  spoke,  pointed  to  an  ov  J-eliaped  ob. 
ject,  something  larger  than  a  cocoa-nut,  appearing  between 
the  hind  legs  of  the  maherry. 

"  It 's  a  shemale  ! "  added  he,  "  and  's  had  a  calf  not  long 
ago.  Look  at  the  '  eldher,'  and  them  tits.  They  're  swelled 
wi'  milk.  There  '11  be  enough  for  the  whole  of  us,  I  war- 
rant yez." 

As  if  to  make  sure  of  what  he  said,  the  sailor  dropped 
down  upon  his  knees  by  the  hind-quarters  of  the  proi5ti-ate 
camel ;  and,  taking  one  of  the  teats  in  his  mouth,  commenced 
drawing  forth  the  lacteal  fluid  which  the  udder  contained. 

The  animal  made  no  resistance.  It  might  have  wondered 
at  the  curious  "  calf"  that  had  thus  attached  himself  to  its 
teats  ;  but  only  at  the  odduess  of  his  color  and  costume  ;  for 
no  doubt  it  had  often  before  been  similarly  served  by  its 
African  owner. 

"  Fust  rate  ! "  cried  Bill,  desisting  for  a  moment  to  take 
breath.  "  Ayqual  to  the  richest  crame  ;  if  we  'd  only  a  bite 
av  bred  to  go  along  wi'  it,  or  some  av  your  Scotch  porritch, 
Master  Colin.  But  I  forgets.  My  brave  youngsters,"  con- 
tuiued  he,  rising  up  and  standing  to  one  side,  "  yez  be  all 
hungrier  than  I  am.  Go  it,  wan  after  another :  there  '11  be 
enough  for  yez  all." 

Thus  invited,  and  impelled  by  their  hungry  cravings,  the 
three,  one  after  another,  knelt  down  as  the  sailor  had  done, 
and  drank  copiously  from  that  sweet  "  fountain  of  the  des- 
ert." 

Taking  it  in  turns,  they  continued  "  sucking,"  until  each 
had  swallowed  about  a  pint  and  a  half  of  the  nutritious  fluid 
when,  the  udder  of  the  camel  becoming  dry,  tcld  that  he! 
supply  of  milk  was,  for  the  time,  exhausted. 


62  THE  BOY  SLAVEA. 

CHAPTER    XV. 

THE    SAILOR   AlIONQ   THE    SHELL-FISH. 

IT  was  no  longer  a  question  of  slaying  the  camel.  'JTlial 
would  be  killing  the  goose  that  gave  the  golden  eggs 
Though  they  were  still  very  hungry,  the  rich  milk  had  to 
some  extent  taken  the  keen  edge  off  their  appetites  ;  and  all 
declared  they  could  now  go  several  hours  without  eating. 

The  next  question  was  :  where  were  they  to  go  ? 

The  reader  may  wonder  that  this  was  a  question  at  all 
Havuig  been  told  that  the  camel  carried  a  saddle,  and  was 
otherwise  caparisoned,  it  will  naturally  be  conjectured  that 
the  animal  had  got  loose  from  some  owner,  and  was  simply 
straying.  This  was  the  very  hypothesis  that  passed  before 
*Jie  mind  of  our  adventurers.  How  could  they  have  con- 
jectured otherwise  ? 

Indeed  it  was  scarce  a  guess.  The  circumstances  toW 
them  to  a  certainty  that  the  camel  must  have  strayed  from 
its  owner.  The  only  question  was :  where  that  owner  might 
be  found. 

By  reading,  or  otherwise,  they  possessed  enough  knowl- 
edge of  the  coast,  on  which  they  had  been  cast  away,  to 
know  that  the  proprietor  of  the  "  stray "  would  be  some 
kind  of  an  Arab  ;  and  that  he  would  be  found  living  —  not 
in  a  house  or  a  town  —  but  in  a  tent ;  in  all  likelihood 
associated  with  a  number  of  other  Arabs,  in  an  "  encamp- 
ment." 

It  required  not  much  reasoning  to  arrive  at  these  conclu- 
sions ;  and  our  adventurers  had  come  to  them  almost  on 
tliat  instant,  when  they  first  set  eyes  on  the  caparisoned 
camel. 

You  may  wonder  that  they  did  not  instantly  set  forth  in 
search  of  the  master  of  the  maherry ;  or  of  the  tent  or  en" 


THE  SAILOR  AMONG  THE  SUF.LL-FISII.  53 

campment  from  which  the  latter  should  have  strayed.  One 
might  suppose,  that  this  would  have  been  their  fii-st  move- 
ment. 

On  the  contrary,  it  was  likely  to  be  iheir  very  last ;  and 
for  sufficient  reasons,  —  which  will  be  discovered  in  the  con- 
versation that  ensued,  after  they  had  swallowed  their  liciiid 
breakfasts. 

Terence  had  proposed  adopting  this  course,  —  that  is,  to 
go  in  search  of  the  man  from  whom  the  maherry  must  have 
wandered.  The  young  tishman  had  never  been  a  great 
reader,  —  at  all  events  no  account  of  the  many  "  lamentable 
shipwrecks  on  the  Barbary  coast"  had  ever  fallen  into  his 
hands,  —  and  he  knew  nothing  of  the  terrible  reputation  of 
its  people.  Neither  had  Bill  obtained  any  knowledge  of  it 
from  books  ;  but,  for  all  that,  —  thanks  to  many  a  forecastle 
yarn,  —  the  old  sailor  was  weU  informed  both  about  the 
character  of  the  coast  on  which  they  had  suffered  shipwreck, 
and  its  inhabitants.  Bill  had  the  best  of  reasons  for  dread- 
ing the  denizens  of  the  Saaran  desert. 

"  Sure  they  're  not  cannibaJs  ?  "  urged  Terence.  "  They 
won't  eat  us,  any  how  ?  " 

"  In  troth  I  'm  not  so  shure  av  that,  Masther  Terry,"  re- 
plied Bill.     "  Even  supposiu'  they  won't  ate  us,  they  '11  do 
worse." 
"  Worse ! " 

"  Aye,  worse,  I  tell  you.  They  'd  torture  us,  till  death 
would  be  a  blissin'." 

"  How  do  you  know  they  would  ?  " 

«  Ach,  Masther  Terry  !  "  sighed  tlie  old  sailor,  assuming 
ar  air  of  solemnity,  such  as  his  young  comrades  had  ne^er 
before  witnessed  upon  his  usually  cheerful  countenance  ;  "  I 
could  tell  yez  something  that  'ud  convince  ye  of  the  truth 
av  what  I  've  been  sayin',  an'  that  '11  gie  ye  a  hidear  av  what 
we  've  got  to  expect  if  we  fall  into  the  'auds  av  these  feero 
cious  Ayrabs." 


54  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Bill  had  already  hinted  at  the  prospective  peril  of  an  ett 
counter  with  the  people  of  the  country. 

«  Tell  us,  Bill.     What  is  it?' 

"Well,  young  masthers,  it  beant  much,  —  only  that  my 
own  brother  was  wrecked  som'ere  on  this  same  coast.  That 
was  ten  years  agoue.  He  never  returned  to  owld  Heng- 
land." 

"  Perhaps  he  was  drowned  ?  " 

"  Betther  for  'im,  poor  boy,  if  he  'ad.  No,  he  'ad  n't  that 
luck.  The  crew,  —  it  was  a  tradin'  vessel,  and  there  wa« 
tin  o'  them,  —  all  got  safe  ashore.  They  were  taken  pris- 
oners as  they  landed  by  a  lot  o'  Ayrabs.  Only  one  av  tho 
tin  got  home  to  tell  the  tale ;  and  he  would  n't  a  'ad  the 
chance  but  for  a  Jew  merchant  at  Mogador,  that  found  he 
had  rich  relations  as  'ud  pay  well  to  ransom  him.  I  see 
him  a  wee  while  after  he  got  bkck  to  Hengland ;  and  he 
tell  me  what  he  had  to  go  through,  and  my  hown  brother  as 
well :  for  Jim,  —  that  be  my  brother's  name,  —  was  with  the 
tribe  as  took  'im  up  the  counthry.  None  o'  yez  iver  heerd 
o'  cruelties  like  they  'ad  to  put  up  with.  Death  in  any  way 
would  be  aisy,  compared  to  what  they  'ad  to  hendure.  Poor 
Jim  !  I  suppose  he  's  dead  long  ago.  Tough  as  I  be  my- 
self, I  don't  believe  I  could  a  stood  it  a  week,  —  let  alone 
tin  years.  Talk  o'  knockin'  about  like  a  Turk's  head.  They 
were  knocked  about,  an'  beat,  an'  bullied,  an'  kicked,  an' 
starved,  —  worse  than  the  laziest  lubber  as  ever  skulked 
about  the  decks  o'  a  ship.  No,  Masther  Terry,  we  must  n't 
thiuk  av  thryin'  to  find  the  owner  av  the  beest ;  but  do 
everythiuk  we  can  to  keep  out  o'  the  way  av  both  him  and 
hie." 

"  What  woidd  you  advise  us  to  do.  Bill  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  much  'bout   where   we  be,"  replied    the 

sailor ;  "  but  wheresoraever  it  is,  our  best  plan  are  to  hug 

by  the  crast,  an'  keep  within  sight  o'  the  water.     If  we  go 

innard.  we  're  sure  to  get  lost  one  way  or  t'  other    !^y  keep* 


THE   SAILOR  AMONG   THE   SJIELL-FISH.  55 

in'  south'ard  we  may  come  to  some  thradin'  port  av  *;h€ 
Portagee." 

"  "We  'd  better  start  at  once,  then,"  suggested  the  impa- 
tient Terence. 

"  No,  Masther  Terry,"  said  the  sailor ;  "  not  afore  night. 
We  musn't  leave  'eer  till  it  gets  dark.  We  '11  'ave  to  tLiavel 
betwane  two  days." 

"  What ! "  simultaneously  exclaimed  the  three  midship- 
men.    "  Stay  here  till  night !     Impossible  ! " 

"  Aye,  lads  !  an'  we  must  hide,  too.  Shnre  as  ye  are 
livin'  there  '11  be  somebody  afther  this  sthray  kaymal,  —  in 
a  wee  while,  too,  as  ye  '11  see.  If  we  ventured  out  durin' 
the  daylight,  they  'd  be  sure  tp  see  us  from  the  'ills.  It  'a 
sayed,  the  thievin'  schouudrels  always  keep  watch  when 
there 's  been  a  wreck  upon  the  coast ;  an'  I  '11  be  bound  this 
beest  belongs  to  some  av  them  same  wreckers." 

"  But  what  shall  we  do  for  food  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  party ; 
"  we  '11  be  famished  before  nightfall !  The  camel,  having 
nothing  to  eat  or  drink,  won't  yield  any  more  milk." 

This  interrogative  conjecture  was  probably  too  near  the 
truth.  No  one  made  answer  to  it.  Colin's  eyes  were  again 
turned  towards  the  beach.  Once  more  he  directed  the 
thoughts  of  his  comrades  to  the  shell-fish. 

"  Hold  your  hands,  youngsthers,"  said  the  sailor.  "  Lie 
close  'eer  behind  the  'ill,  an'  I  '11  see  if  there  's  any  shell-fish 
that  we  can  make  a  meal  av.  Now  that  the  sun 's  up,  it 
won't  do  to  walk  down  there.     I  must  make  a  crawl  av  it." 

So  saying,  the  old  salt,  after  skulking  some  distance  farther 
down  the  sand  gully,  threw  himself  flat  upon  his  face,  and 
advanced  in  this  attitude,  like  some  gigantic  lizard  crawling 
across  the  sand. 

The  tide  was  out ;  but  the  wet  beach,  lately  covered  by 
the  sea,  commenced  at  a  short  distance  from  the  base  of  the 
**  dunes." 

After  a  ten  minutes'  struggle.  Bill  succeeded  in  rea  hing 


56  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

the  dark-looking  spot  where  Coliu  had  coiijecluied  tlierf 
might  be  shell-lish. 

The  old  sailor  was  soon  seen  busily  engaged  about  some- 
thing ;  and  from  his  movements  it  was  evident,  that  his  enanc! 
was  not  to  prove  fruitless.  His  hands  were  extended  in  differ- 
ent directions ;  and  then  at  short  intervals  withdrawn,  and 
plunged  into  the  capacious  pockets  of  his  pea-jacket. 

After  these  gestures  had  been  continued  for  about  half  an 
hour,  he  was  seen  to  "  slew "  himself  round,  and  come 
crawling  back  towards  the  sand-hills. 

His  return  was  effected  more  slowly  than  his  departure ; 
and  it  could  be  seen  that  he  was  heavily  weighted. 

On  getting  back  into  the  gorge,  he  was  at  once  relieved 
of  his  load,  which  proved  to  consist  of  about  three  hundred 
"  cockles,"  —  as  he  called  the  shell-fish  he  had  collected,  -^ 
and  which  were  found  to  be  a  species  of  mussel. 

They  were  not  only  edible,  but  delicious,  —  at  least  they 
seemed  so  to  those  who  were  called  upon  to  swallow  them. 

This  seasonable  supply  did  a  great  deal  towards  allaying 
the  appetites  of  all ;  and  even  Terence  now  declared  himself 
contented  to  remain  concealed,  until  night  should  atford 
them  an  opportunity  of  escape  from  the  monotony  of  their 
Bituation. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

KEEI'ING    UNDER    COVEU. 

1T1R0M  the  spot,  where  the  camel  still  lay  couched  xu  hi? 
'"  entethermeut,"  the  sea  was  not  visible  to  one  lying 
along  the  ground.  It  was  only  by  standing  erect,  and  look 
ing  over  a  spur  of  the  sand-ridge,  that  the  beach  could  be 
ueen,  and  the  ocean  beyond  it. 

There  would  be  no  danger,  therefore,  of  their  b<iir^  dis- 


!'  |||lll.f^^^ 


'If"    1'; 


;)iiii;vi!'i^    I 


I,   ',:'!!' 


^llBlill'! 


'■■rlispffilii'' 


taW'  '^IllIKiiffv  'n:!''!!!'      \iiiiii 


I'!,    'f 


KEEPING  UNDER   COVER.  67 

covered,  by  anj  one  coming  along  the  strand  —  prov'/ded 
they  kept  in  a  crouching  attitude  behind  the  ridge,  v\  hicb, 
sharply  crested,  like  a  snow-wreath,  formed  a  sort  of  parapet 
in  front  of  them.  They  might  have  been  easily  seen  from 
the  summit  of  any  of  the  "  dunes  "  to  the  rear ;  but  there 
was  not  much  likelihood  of  any  one  approaching  them  in 
that  direction.  The  country  inward  appeared  to  be  a  laby- 
rinth of  sand-hills  —  with  no  opening  that  would  indicate  a 
passage  for  either  man  or  beast.  The  camel,  in  all  proba- 
bility, had  taken  to  the  gorge  —  guided  by  its  instincts  — 
there  to  seek  shelter  from  the  sand-storm.  The  fact  of  its 
carrying  a  saddle  showed  that  its  owner  must  have  been 
upon  the  march,  at  the  time  it  escaped  from  him.  Had  our 
adventurers  been  better  acquainted  with  Saaran  customs, 
they  would  have  concluded  that  this  had  been  the  case  :  for 
they  would  have  known  that,  on  the  approach  of  a  "  shuma  " 
—  the  "  forecasts  "  of  which  are  well  known  —  the  Be 
douins  at  once,  and  in  all  haste,  break  up  their  encamp- 
ments ;  and  put  themselves,  and  their  whole  personal 
property,  in  motion.  Otherwise,  they  would  be  in  danger 
of  getting  smoored  under  the  settling  saud-drift. 

Following  the  counsels  of  the  sailor  —  whose  desert 
knowledge  appeared  as  extensive  as  if  it,  and  not  the  sea, 
had  been  his  habitual  home  —  our  adventurers_  crouched 
down  m  such  a  way  as  not  to  be  seen  by  any  one  passing 
along  the  beach. 

Scarcely  had  they  placed  themselves  in  this  humble  atti- 
tude, when  Old  Bill  —  who  had  been  keeping  watch  all  the 
while,  with  only  the  upper  half  of  his  head  elevated  above 
the  combing  of  the  sand-wreath  —  announced,  by  a  low  ex- 
clamation, that  something  was  in  sight. 

Two  dark  forms  were  seen  coming  along  the  shore,  from 
the  southward ;  but  at  so  great  a  distance  that  it  was  impos- 
Bible  to  tell  what  sort  of  creatures  they  might  turn  out, 

"  Let  me  have  a  look,"  proposed  Colin.     "  By  good  luck, 
a* 


58  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

I  've  got  my  glass.  It  was  in  my  pocket  as  we  escaped 
from  the  ship ;  and  I  did  n't  think  of  throwing  it  away." 

As  the  young  Scotchman  spoke,  he  took  from  tlie  breast 
of  his  dreadnought  jacket,  a  small  telescope,  —  which,  when 
drawn  out  to  its  full  extent,  exhibited  a  series  of  tubes,  en 
echelon,  about  half  a  yard  in  length.  Directing  it  upon  the 
dark  objects,  —  at  the  same  time  taking  the  precaution  to 
keep  his  own  head  as  low  down  as  possible,  —  he  at  once 
proclaimed  their  character. 

"  They  're  two  bonny  bodies,"  said  he,  "  dressed  in  all  the 
colors  of  the  rainbow.  I  can  see  bright  shawls,  and  red 
caps,  and  striped  cloaks.  One  is  mounted  on  a  horse ;  the 
other  bestrides  a  camel,  — just  such  a  one  as  this  by  our 
side.  They  're  coming  along  slowly ;  and  appear  to  be  star- 
ing about  them." 

"  Ah,  that  be  hit,"  said  Old  Bill.  "  It  be  the  howners  of 
this  'eer  brute.  They  be  on  the  sarch  for  her.  Lucky  the 
drift-sand  hae  covered  her  tracks,  —  else  they  'd  come  right 
on  to  us.  Lie  low,  Masther  Colin.  We  may  n't  show  our 
heeds  over  the  corabin'  o'  the  sand.  They  'd  be  sure  to  see 
the  size  o'  a  saxpence.  We  maun  keep  awthegither  cot  o* 
sicht." 

One  of  the  old  sailor's  peculiarities  —  or,  perhaps,  it 
may  have  been  an  eccentricity  —  was,  that  in  addressing 
himself  to  His  companions,  he  was  almost  sure  to  assume 
the  national  patois  of  the  individual  spoken  to.  In  any- 
thing like  a  continued  conversaticn  with  Harry  Blount, 
his  "  h's  "  wei'e  handled  in  a  most  unfashionable  manner ; 
and  while  talking  with  Terence,  the  JMilosian  came  from 
bis  lips,  in  a  brogue  almost  as  pure  as  Tipperary  could 
produce. 

In  a  tete-a-tete  with  Colin,  the  listener  might  have  sworn 
that  Bill  was  more  Scotch  than  the  young  Macpherson  him* 
eelf. 

Colin  perceived  the  jusitice  of  the  sailor's  suggestion ;  and 


KEEPING  UNDER  COVER.  59 

immediately  ducked  liis  Lead  below  the  level  of  tlie  parapet 
of  sand. 

This  placed  our  adventurers  in  a  position  at  once  irksome 
and  uncertiiin.  Curiosity,  if  nothing  else,  rendered  them 
desirous  to  watch  the  movements  of  tlie  men  who  were  ap 
proaching.  Without  noting  these,  they  would  not  be  able 
tjo  tell  when  they  might  again  I'aise  their  heads  above  the 
ridge ;  and  might  do  so,  just  at  the  time  when  the  horseman 
iukI  the  rider  of  the  maherry  were  either  opposite  or  within 
sight  of  them. 

As  the  sailor  had  said,  any  dark  object  of  the  size  of  a 
sixpence  would  be  seen  if  presented  above  the  smooth  comb- 
ing of  snow-white  sand ;  and  it  was  evident  to  all  that  for 
one  of  them  to  look  over  it  might  lead  to  their  being  dis- 
covered. 

While  discussing  this  point,  they  knew  that  some  time 
had  elapsed ;  and,  although  the  eyes  they  dreaded  migh* 
stiU  be  distant,  they  could  not  help  thinking,  that  they  were 
near  enough  to  see  them  if  only  the  hair  of  tlieir  heads 
should  be  shown  above  the  sand. 

.  They  reflected  naturally.  They  knew  that  these  sons  of 
the  desert  must  be  gifted  with  keen  instincts  ;  or,  at  all  events, 
with  an  experience  that  would  enable  them  to  detect  the 
slightest  "  fault "  in  the  aspect  of  a  landscape,  so  well  known 
to  them,  —  in  short,  that  they  would  notice  anything  that 
might  appear  "  abnormal  "  in  it. 

From  that  time  their  situation  was  one  of  doubt  and  anx- 
iety. They  dared  not  give  even  as  much  as  a  glance  over 
the  smooth,  snow  white  sand.  They  could  only  crouch  be- 
hind it,  in  anxious  expectation,  knowing  not  when  that  du- 
bious condition  of  things  could  be  safely  brought  to  a  close. 

Luckily  they  were  relieved  from  it,  and  sooner  than  they 
had  expected.  Colin  it  was  who  disco verec'  a  way  to  get 
out  of  the  difficulty. 

"  Ha  ! "  exclaimed  he,  as  an  ingenious  conception  sprang 


60  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

np  in  his  mind.  "  I  've  got  an  idea  tbat  '11  do.  I  '11  walcl 
these  fellows,  without  giving  them  a  chance  of  seeing  me. 
That  will  I." 

"  How  ?  "  asked  the  others. 

Colin  made  no  verbal  reply ;  but  instead,  he  was  seen  tc 
insert  his  telescope  into  the  sand-parapet,  in  such  a  way  that 
its  tube  passed  clear  through  to  the  other  side,  and  of  course 
commanded  a  view  of  the  beach,  along  which  the  two  forms 
were  advancing. 

As  soon  as  he  had  done  so,  he  placed  his  eye  to  the  glass, 
and,  in  a  cautious  whisper,  announced  that  both  the  horse- 
man and  camel-rider  were  within  his  "  field  of  view  " 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE    TRAIL    ON    THE    SAND. 

THE  tube  of  the  telescope,  firmly  imbedded  in  the  sand, 
kept  its  place  without  the  necessity  of  being  held  in 
hand.  It  only  required  to  be  slightly  shifted  as  the  horse- 
man and  camel-rider  changed  place,  —  so  as  to  keep  them 
within  its  field  of  view. 

By  this  means  our  adventurers  were  able  to  mark  their 
approach  and  note  every  movement  they  made,  without 
much  risk  of  being  seen  themselves.  Each  of  them  took 
a  peep  through  the  glass  to  satisfy  their  cuiiosity,  and  then 
the  instrument  was  wholly  intrusted  to  its  owner,  who  waa 
ihenceforth  constantly  to  keep  his  eye  to  it,  and  observe  the 
movements  of  the  strangers.  This  the  young  Scotchman 
did,  at  intervals  communicating  with  his  companions  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  I  can  vQake  out  their  faces."  muttered  he,  after  a  time 


THE  TRAIL  ON   THE  SAND.  61 

*  and  ugly  enough  are  they.  One  is  yellow,  the  other  black, 
He  must  be  a  negro,  —  of  course  he  is,  —  he 's  got  woolly 
hair  too.  It's  he  that  rides  the  camel,  — just  such  another 
as  this  that  stumbled  over  us.  The  yellow  man  upon  th3 
horse  has  a  pointed  beard  upon  his  chin.  He  has  a  sharp 
look,  like  those  Moors  we've  seen  at  Tetuan.  He's  an 
Arab,  I  suppose.  He  appears  to  be  the  master  of  the  black 
man.  I  can  see  him  make  gestures,  as  if  he  was  directmg 
him  to  do  something.  There  !  they  have  stopped,  —  they 
are  looking  this  way  !  " 

"  Marcy  on  us  ! "  muttered  old  Bill,  "  if  they  have  speered 
the  glass  ! " 

"Troth!  that's  hke  enough,"  said  Terence.  ''It'll  bo 
flasliing  in  the  sun  outside  the  sand.  That  sharp-eyed  Arab 
is  almost  sure  to  see  it." 

"  Had  you  not  better  draw  it  in  ?  "  suggested  Harry 
Blount. 

"  True,"  answered  Colm.  "  But  I  fear  it  would  be  too 
late  now.  If  that 's  what  halted  them,  it 's  all  over  with  us, 
BO  far  as  hiding  goes." 

"  Shp  it  in,  any  how.  If  they  don't  see  it  any  more,  they 
may  n't  come  quite  up  to  the  ridge." 

Colin  was  about  to  follow  the  advice  thus  offered,  when 
on  taking  what  he  intended  to  be  a  last  squint  through  the 
telescope,  he  perceived  that  the  travellers  were  moving  on 
up  the  beach,  as  if  they  had  seen  nothing  that  called  upon 
theni  to  deviate  from  their  course. 

Fortunately  for  the  four  "  stowaways,"  it  was  not  the 
sparkle  of  the  lens  that  had  caused  them  to  make  that  stop. 
A  ravine,  or  opening  through  the  sand-ridges,  much  larger 
than  that  in  which  our  adventurei's  were  concealed,  emboucheea 
upon  the  beach,  some  distance  below.  It  was  the  appear- 
ance of  this  opening  that  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
two  mounted  men ;  and  from  their  gestures  Colin  could  tell 
they  were  talking  about  it,  as  if  undecided  whether  tc  go 
that  way  or  keep  on  up  the  strand. 


62  TEE  BOY   SLAVES. 

It  ended  by  the  yellow  man  putting  jpurs  to  hia  horsey 
and  galloping  off  up  the  ravine,  followed  by  the  black  man 
on  the  camel. 

From  the  way  in  which  both  behaved,  —  keeping  their 
eyes  generally  bent  upon  the  ground,  but  at  intervals  gazing 
about  over  the  country,  —  it  was  evident  they  were  in  search 
of  something,  and  this  would  be  the  she-camel  that  lay  teth- 
ered in  the  bottom  of  the  sand-gorge,  close  to  the  spot  occu- 
pied by  our  adventurers. 

"  They  've  gone  off  on  the  wrong  track,"  said  Colin,  tak- 
ing his  eye  from  the  glass  as  soon  as  the  switch  tail  of  the 
maherry  disappeared  behind  the  slope  of  a  sand-dune.  "  So 
much  the  better  for  us.  My  heart  was  at  my  mouth  just  a 
minute  ago.     I  was  sure  it  was  all  over  with  us." 

"  You  think  they  have  n't  seen  the  shine  of  the  lens  ?  "  in- 
terrogated Harry. 

"  Of  course  not ;  or  else  they  'd  have  come  on  to  examine 
it.  Instead,  they  've  left  the  beach  altogether.  They  've 
gone  inland,  among  the  hills.     They  're  no  longer  in  sight." 

"  Good !  "  ejaculated  Terence,  raising  his  head  over  the 
ridge,  as  did  also  the  others. 

"  Och  !  good  yez  may  well  say,  Masther  Terence.  Jist 
look  fwhot  fools  we  've  been  all  four  av  us !  We  never 
thought  av  the  thracks,  nayther  wan  nor  other  av  us ! " 

As  Bill  spoke,  he  pointed  down  towards  the  beach,  in  the 
direction  in  which  he  had  made  his  late  crawling  excursion. 
There,  distinctly  traceable  in  the  half-wet  sand,  were  the 
marks  he  had  made  both  going  and  returning,  as  if  a  huge 
tortoise  or  crocodile  had  been  dragging  itself  over  the 
ground. 

The  truth  of  his  words  w:is  ajpparent  to  all.  It  was  chance 
and  not  their  cunning  that  had  saved  them  from  discovery. 
Plad  the  owner  of  tlie  camel  but  continued  another  hundred 
yards  along  the  beach,  he  could  not  have  failed  to  see  the 
double  "  trail "  made  by  the  sailor,  and  of  course  would  hav« 


THE  "DESERT  SHIP."  69 

followed  it  to  the  spot  where  they  were  hidden.  As  it  way, 
the  two  mounted  men  had  not  come  near  enough  to  ^ote  the 
sign  made  by  the  old  salt  in  his  laborious  floun  Jerings ;  and 
perhaps  fancying  they  had  followed  the  strand  fiir  enough, 
they  had  struck  off  into  the  interior,  —  through  the  opening 
of  the  sand-bills,  in  the  belief  that  the  she-camel  might  have 
done  the  same. 

Whatever  may  have  been  their  reason,  they  were  now 
gone  out  of  sight,  and  the  long  stretch  of  desert  shore  waa 
once  more  under  the  eyes  of  our  adventurers,  unrelieved  by 
the  appearance  of  anything  that  might  be  called  a  living 
creature. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

THE    "desert    ship." 

THOUGH- there  was  now  nothing  within  sight  between 
them,  they  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  move  out  of  the 
gorge,  nor  even  to  raise  their  heads  above  the  level  of  the 
sand-wreath.  They  did  so  only  at  intervals,  to  assure  them- 
selves that  the  "  coast  was  clear " ;  and  satisfied  on  this 
score,  they  would  lower  their  heads  again,  and  remain  in  thia 
attitude  of  concealment. 

One  with  but  slight  knowledge  of  the  circumstances  —  oi 
with  the  country  in  which  they  were  —  might  consider  them 
over-cautious  in  acting  thus,  and  might  fancy  that  in  their 
forlorn,  shipwrecked  condition  they  should  have  been  but 
too  glad  to  meet  men. 

On  the  contrary,  a  creature  of  their  own  shape  was  the 
last  thing  they  desired  either  to  see  or  encounter  ;  and  fbr 
the  reasons  already  given  in  their  conversation,  they  could 
meet  no  men  there  who  would  not  be  their  enemies, — 


64  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

worse  than  that,  Kiclr  tyrants,  perliaps  their  torturers.  0\J 
Bill  was  sure  of  this  from  what  he  had  heard.  So  were 
Colin  and  Harry  from  what  they  had  read.  Terence  alone 
was  incredulous  as  to  the  cruelty  of  which  the  sailor  had 
given  such  a  graphic  picture. 

Terence,  however  rash  he  was  by  nature,  allowed  him- 
self to  be  overruled  by  his  more  prudent  companions ;  and 
therefore,  up  to  the  hour  when  the  twilight  began  to  em- 
purple the  sea,  no  movement  towards  stLi-ring  from  their 
place  of  concealment  was  made  by  any  of  the  party. 

The  patient  camel  shared  their  eilent  retreat;  though 
they  had  taken  precautions  against  its  straying  from  them, 
had  it  felt  so  inclined,  by  tying  its  shanks  securely  together. 
Towards  evening  the  animal  Avas  again  milked,  in  the  same 
fashion  as  in  the  morning ;  and,  reinvigorated  by  its  bounti- 
ful yield,  our  adventurers  prepared  to  depart  from  a  spot, 
of  which,  notwithstanding  the  friendly  concealment  it  had 
afforded  them,  they  were  all  heartily  tired. 

Their  preparations  were  easily  made,  and  occupied  scarce 
ten  seconds  of  time.  It  was  only  to  untether  the  camel  and 
take  to  the  road,  or,  as  Harry  jocosely  termed  it,  "  unmoor 
the  desert  ship  and  begin  thc'r  voyage." 

Just  as  the  last  gleam  of  daylight  forsook  the  white  cresta 
of  the  sand-hills,  and  went  flickering  afar  over  the  blue 
waters  of  the  ocean,  they  stole  forth  from  their  hiding-place, 
and  started  upon  a  journey  of  which  they  knew  neither  the 
length  nor  the  ending. 

Even  of  the  direction  of  that  undetermined  journey  they 
liad  but  a  vague  conception.  They  believed  that  the  coast 
trended  northward  and  southward,  and  that  one  of  these 
points  was  the  proper  one  to  head  for.  It  was  almost 
"  heads  or  tails  "  which  of  them  they  should  take ;  and  had 
they  been  better  acquainted  with  their  true  situation,  it 
might  as  well  have  been  determined  by  a  toss-up,  for  any 
chance  they  had  of  ever  arriving  at  a  civilized  sf^ttleracDt 


THE  "DESERT   SHIP,"  65 

But  they  knew  not  tliat.  They  had  a  belief — the  old 
Bailor  strongex"  than  the  rest  —  tiiat  there  were  Portuguese 
forts  along  the  coast,  chiefly  to  the  southward,  and  tliat  by 
keeping  along  shore  they  might  reach  one  of  these.  There 
wtire  such  establishments  it  is  true  —  still  are  ;  and  though 
at  that  time  there  were  some  nearer  to  the  point  where  their 
ship  had  been  wrecked,  none  were  near  enough  to  be  reached 
by  the  starving  castaway,  however  perseveringly  he  might 
travel  towards  them. 

Ignorant  of  the  impracticability  of  their  attempt,  our  ad 
venturers  entered  upon  it  with  a  spirit  worthy  of  success, — 
worthy  of  the  country  from  which  they  had  come. 

For  some  time  the  maherry  was  led  in  hand,  old  Bill 
being  its  conductor.  All  four  had  been  well  rested  during 
the  day,  and  none  of  them  cared  to  ride. 

As  the  tide,  however,  was  now  beginning  to  creep  up 
into  the  sundry  inlets,  to  avoid  walking  in  water,  they  were 
compelled  to  keep  well  high  up  on  the  beach ;  and  this 
forced  them  to  make  their  way  through  the  soft  yielding 
sand,  a  course  that  required  considerable  exertion. 

One  after  another  now  began  to  feel  fatigue,  and  talk 
about  it  as  well ;  and  then  the  proposal  was  made,  that  the 
maherry  —  who  stepped  over  the  unsure  surface  with  as 
much  apparent  lightness  as  a  cat  would  have  done  —  should 
be  made  to  carry  at  least  one  of  the  party.  They  could 
ride  in  turns,  which  would  give  eacli  of  them  an  opportunity 
of  resting. 

No  sooner  was  the  proposition  made  than  it  was  carried 
into  execution.  Terence,  who  had  been  the  one  to  advance 
it,  being  hoisted  in  the  hump  of  the  camel. 

But  though  the  young  O'Connor  had  been  accustomed  to 
the  saddle  from  childhood,  and  had  ridden  "across  country" 
on  many  an  occasion,  it  was  not  long  before  he  became 
satisfied  with  the  saddle  of  a  maherry.  The  rocking,  and 
joking,  and  "  pitching,"  as  our  adventurers  termed  it,  ^-om 


56  THE   BOY  SLAVES. 

larboard  to  starboard,  fore  and  aft,  and  alow  and  aloft,  soon 
caused  Terence  to  sing  out  "  enough " ;  and  he  descended 
into  the  soft  sand  with  a  much  greater  desire  for  walking 
than  the  moment  before  he  had  had  for  riding. 

Harry  Blount  took  his  place,  but  although  the  young  Eng- 
lishman had  been  equally  accustomed  to  a  hunting-saddle, 
he  found  that  his  experience  went  but  a  little  way  towards 
making  him  easy  on  the  hump  of  a  maherry ;  and  lie  was 
soon  in  the  mood  for  dismounting. 

The  son  of  Scotia  next  climbed  upon  the  back  of  the 
camel.  Whether  it  was  that  natural  pride  of  prowess  which 
ofl  impels  his  countrymen  to  perseverance  and  daring  deeds, 
—  whether  it  was  that,  or  whether  it  arose  from  a  sterner 
power  of  endurance,  —  certain  it  is  that  Colin  kept  his  seat 
longer  than  either  of  his  predecessors. 

But  even  Scot(;h  sinews  could  not  hold  out  against  such  a 
tension,  —  such  a  bursting  and  wrenching  and  tossing,  —  and 
it  ended  by  Colin  declaring  that  upon  the  whole  he  would 
prefer  making  the  journey  upon  "  Shank's  mare." 

Saying  this  he  slid  down  from  the  shoulders  of  the  un- 
gaudy  animal,  resigning  the  creature  once  more  to  the  con- 
duct of  Old  Bill,  who  had  still  kept  hold  of  the  halter. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

nOMEWAUD    BOUND. 

ri^HE  experience  of  his  young  companinns  might  have 
1  deterred  the  sailor  from  imitating  their  example ; 
more  especially  as  Bill,  according  to  his  own  statement,  had 
never  been  "  abroad  "  a  saddle  in  his  life.  But  they  did 
not;   and  for  special  reasons.     Awkward  as  the  old  sail 


HOMEWARD  BOUND.  67 

might  feel  in  a  saddle,  he  felt  not  less  awkward  nfooU 
That  is  ashore,  —  on  terra  firma. 

Place  him  on  the  deck  of  a  ship,  or  in  th(!  rigging  of  one, 
and  no  man  in  all  England's  navy  could  have  been  mora 
secure  as  to  his  footing,  or  more  difficult  to  dit^possess  of  it ; 
but  set  sailor  Bill  upon  shore,  and  expect  him  to  go  ahead 
upon  it,  you  would  be  disappointed  :  you  might  as  well  ex- 
pect a  fish  to  make  progress  on  land ;  and  you  would  witness 
a  species  of  locomotion  more  resembling  that  of  a  manatee 
or  a  seal,  than  of  a  human  biped.  As  the  old  man-o'-war's- 
man  had  now  being  floundering  full  five  weeks  through  the 
soft  shore-sand,  he  was  thoroughly  convinced  that  a  mode 
of  progression  must  be  preferable  to  that ;  and  as  soon  as 
the  young  Scotchman  descended  from  his  seat,  he  climbed 
into  it. 

He  had  not  much  climbing  to  do,  —  for  the  well-trained 
maherry,  when  any  one  wished  to  mount  him,  at  once 
knelt  down,  —  making  the  ascent  to  his  "  summits  "  as  easy 
as  possible. 

Just  as  the  sailor  had  got  firmly  into  the  saddle,  the  moon 
shone  out  with  a  brilliance  that  almost  rivalled  the  light  of 
day.  In  the  midst  of  that  desert  landscape,  against  the 
ground  of  snow-white  sand,  the  figures  of  both  camel  and 
rider  were  piquantly  conspicuous ;  and  although  the  one  was 
figuratively  a  ship,  and  the  other  really  a  sailor,  their  juxta- 
position offered  a  contrast  of  the  queerest  kind.  So  ludi- 
crous did  it  seem,  that  the  three  "  mids,"  disregarding  all 
ideas  of  danger,  broke  forth  with  one  accord  into  a  strain  of 
loud  and  continuous  laughter. 

They  had  all  seen  camels,  or  pictures  of  these  animals ; 
but  never  before  either  a  camel,  or  the  picture  of  one,  with 
a  sailor  upon  his  hack.  The  very  idea  of  a  dromedary  cai- 
ries  along  with  it  the  cognate  spectacle  of  an  Arab  on  its 
V)a(.'k,  —  a  slim,  sinewy  individual  of  swarth  complexion  auc* 
picturesque  garb,  a  bright  burnouse  steaming  aiou'\d   hia 


68  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

body,  with  a  twisted  turban  on  his  head.  But  a  tall  camel, 
Burmounted  by  a  sailor  in  dreadnought  jacket  and  sou'« 
wester,  was  a  picture  to  make  a  Solon  laugh,  let  alone  a  tier 
of  midshij  men ;  and  it  drew  from  the  latter  such  a  cachin- 
nation  as  caused  the  shores  of  the  Saiira  to  echo  with  sounds 
of  joy,  perhaps  never  heard  there  before.  Old  Bill  was  not 
an'i-ry,  he  was  only  gratified  to  see  these  young  gentlemen 
in  such  good  spirits ;  and  calling  upon  them  to  keep  close 
after  him,  he  gave  the  halter  to  his  maherry  and  started  off 
over  the  sand. 

For  some  time  his  companions  kept  pace  with  him,  doing 
their  best ;  but  it  soon  became  apparent,  even  to  the  sailor 
himself,  that  unless  something  was  done  to  restrain  the  im- 
petuosity of  the  camel,  he  must  soon  be  separated  from  those 
following  afoot. 

Tliis  something  its  rider  felt  himself  incapable  of  accom- 
plishing. It  is  true  he  still  held  the  halter  in  his  hand,  but 
this  gave  him  but  slight  control  over  the  camel.  It  was 
not  a  mameluke  bitt  —  not  even  a  snaffle  —  and  for  direct- 
ing the  movements  of  the  animal  the  old  sailor  felt  himself 
as  helpless  as  if  standing  by  the  wheel  of  a  seventy-four 
that  had  unshipped  her  rudder.  Just  like  a  ship  in  such  a 
situation  did  the  maherry  behave.  Surging  through  the 
ocean  of  soft  sand,  now  mounting  the  spurs  that  trended 
down  to  the  beach,  now  descending  headlong  into  deep 
gullies,  like  troughs  between  the  ocean  waves,  and  gliding 
silently,  gently  forward  as  a  shallop  upon  a  smooth  sea. 
Such  was  the  course  that  the  sailor  was  pursuing.  Very 
different;  however,  were  his  reflections  to  those  he  would 
have  indulged  in  on  board  a  man-o'-war ;  and  if  any  man 
ever  sneered  at  that  simile  which  likens  a  camel  to  a  ship,  it 
was  Sailor  Bill  upon  that  occasion. 

"Avast  there!"'  cried  he,  as  soon  as  the  maherry  had 
fairly  commenced  moving.  "  Shiver  my  old  timbers  !  what 
■io  vez  mean,  you  brute  ?     Belay  there !  belay !     'Ang  it,  I 


THE  DANCE  INTERRUPTED.  69 

must  pipe  all  'ands,  an'  take  in  sail.  Where  the  deevil  are 
ye  steerin'  tc  ?  Be  jabers,  yez  may  laugh,  yc  ung  gentlemen, 
but  thi3  ain't  a  fair  weather  craft,  I  tell  yez.  Thunder  an' 
ouns  !  it  be  as  much  as  I  can  do  to  keep  her  to  her  course. 
lIuUoo  !  she 's  off  afore  the  wind ! " 

As  the  rider  of  the  maherry  gave  out  this  declara,tion, 
the  animal  was  seen  suddenly  to  increase  its  speed,  not  only 
in  a  progressive  ratio,  but  at  once  to  double  quick,  as  if  inn 
pelled  by  some  powerful  motive. 

At  the  same  time  it  was  heard  to  utter  a  strange  cry, 
half  scream,  half  snort,  which  could  not  have  been  caused 
by  any  action  on  the  part  of  its  rider. 

It  was  already  over  a  hundred  yards  in  advance  of  those 
folloAving  on  foot ;  but  after  giving  out  that  startling  cry, 
the  distance  became  quickly  increased,  and  in  a  few  seconds 
of  time  the  three  astonished  "  mids  "  saw  only  the  shadow 
of  a  maherry,  with  a  sailor  upon  its  back,  first  dissolving 
into  dim  outline  until  it  finally  disappeared  behind  the  sand 
dunes  that  abutted  upon  the  beach. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    DANCE    rNTERRUPTED. 

LEAVING  the  midshipmen  to  their  mirth,  which,  liow- 
ever,  was  not  of  very  long  dui'ation,  we  must  follow 
Sailor  Bill  and  the  runaway  camel. 

In  reality  the  maherry  had  made  off  with  him,  though  fcr 
what  reason  the  sailor  could  not  divine.  He  only  knew  thai 
it  was  going  at  the  rate  of  nine  or  ten  knots  an  hour,  and 
going  its  own  way ;  for  instead  of  keeping  to  the  hne  cf  the 
coast,  —  the  direction  he  would  have  wished  it  to  take,  — il 


70  THE  BOY  SLAV-ES. 

had  suddenly  turned  tail  upon  the  sea,  and  headed  towaids 
the  mterior  of  the  country. 

Its  rider  had  already  discovered  that  he  liad  not  the 
slightest  control  over  it.  He  had  tugged  upon  the  hair 
halter  and  shouted  "  Avast !  "  until  both  his  arms  and  tongue 
were  tired.  All  to  no  purpose.  The  camel  scorned  hia 
commands,  lent  a  deaf  ear  to  his  entreaties,  and  paid  not  the 
slightest  heed  to  his  attempt  to  pull  up,  except  to  push  on 
in  the  opposite  direction,  with  its  snout  elevated  in  the  air 
and  its  long  ungainly  neck  stretched  forward  in  the  most 
determined  and  provoking  fashion. 

There  was  not  much  force  in  the  muscular  efforts  made  to 
check  it.  It  was  just  as  much  as  its  rider  could  do  to  bal- 
ance himself  on  its  hump,  which,  of  course,  he  had  to  do 
Arab-fashion,  sitting  upon  the  saddle  as  on  a  chair,  with  his 
feet  resting  upon  the  back  of  the  animal's  neck.  It  was 
this  position  that  rendered  liis  seat  so  insecure,  but  no  other 
could  have  been  adopted  in  the  saddle  of  a  maherry,  and  the 
sailor  was  compelled  to  keep  it  as  well  as  he  could. 

At  the  time  the  animal  first  started  off,  it  had  not  gone  at 
so  rapid  a  pace  but  that  he  might  have  slipped  down  upon 
the  soft  sand  without  much  danger  of  being  injured.  Tliis 
for  an  instant  he  had  thought  of  doing ;  but  knowing  that 
■while  "  unhorsing  "  himself  the  camel  might  escape,  he  had 
voluntarily  remained  on  its  back,  in  the  hope  of  being  able 
to  pull  the  animal  up. 

On  becoming  jiersuadcd  that  this  would  be  impossible, 
and  tliat  the  maherry  had  actually  made  off  with  hira,  it 
was  too  late  to  dismount  without  danger.  The  camel  was 
now  shambling  along  so  swiftly  that  he  could  not  slip  down 
without  submitting  bimself  to  a  fall.  It  would  be  no  longer 
a  tumble  upon  soft  sand,  for  the  runaway  had  suddenly 
swerved  into  a  deep  gorge,  the  bottom  of  which  was  thickly 
strewed  with  boulders  of  rock,  and  through  these  the 
maherr}'  was  making  way  with  the  speed  of  a  fast-trotting 
horse. 


THE  DANCE  INTERRUPTED.  71 

Had  il8  rider  attempted  to  abandon  his  high  perch  xipon 
the  hump,  his  chances  would  have  been  good  for  getting 
dashed  against  one  of  the  big  boulders,  or  trodden  under  the 
huge  hoofs  of  the  maherry  itself. 

Fully  alive  to  this  danger,  Old  Bill  no  more  thought  of 
throwing  himself  to  the  ground ;  but  on  the  contrary,  held 
on  to  the  hump  with  all  the  tenacity  that  lay  in  his  well- 
taired  digits. 

He  had  continued  to  shout  for  some  time  after  parting 
with  his  companions  ;  but  as  this  availed  nothing,  he  at  length 
desisted,  and  was  now  riding  the  rest  of  his  race  in  silence- 
When  was  it  to  terminate  ?  Whither  was  the  camel  oon- 
ducting  him  ?  These  were  the  questions  that  now  came  be- 
fore his  mind. 

He  thought  of  an  answer,  and  it  filled  him  with  appre- 
hension. The  animal  was  evidently  in  eager  haste.  It  was 
snuffing  the  wind  in  its  progress  forward ;  something  ahead 
seemed  to  be  attracting  it.  What  could  this  something  be 
but  its  home,  the  tent  from  which  it  had  strayed,  the  dwell- 
ing of  its  owner  ?  And  who  could  that  owner  be  but  one 
of  those  cruel  denizens  of  the  desert  they  had  been  takmg 
such  pains  to  avoid  ? 

The  sailor  was  allowed  but  Httle  time  for  conjectures  ;  for 
almost  on  the  instant  of  his  shaping  this,  the  very  first  one, 
the  maherry  shot  suddenly  round  the  hip  of  a  hill,  bringing 
him  in  full  view  of  a  spectacle  that  realized  it. 

A  small  valley,  or  stretch  of  level  ground  enclosed  by 
surrounding  ridges,  lay  before  him  ;  its  gray,  sandy  surface 
interspersed  by  a  few  patches  of  darker  color,  which  the 
moon,  shining  brightly  from  a  blue  sky,  disclosed  to  be  tufts 
of  tussock-grass  and  mimosa  bushes. 

These,  however,  did  not  occupy  the  attention  of  the  invol- 
untary visitor  to  that  secluded  spot ;  but  something  else  that 
appeared  in  their  midst,  —  something  that  proclaimed  tha 
presence  of  human  beings. 


72  THE  BOY  SLAVnS. 

Near  the  centre  of  the  little  valley  half  a  dozen  dark  ob" 
jects  stood  up  several  feet  above  the  level  of  the  ground 
Then-  size,  shape,  and  color  proclaimed  their  cluiracter. 
Tliey  were  tents,  —  the  tents  of  a  Bedouin  encampment. 
The  old  man-o'-war's-raan  had  never  seen  such  before ;  but 
there  was  no  mistaking  them  for  anything  else,  —  even 
going  as  he  was  at  a  speed  that  prevented  him  from  having 
a  very  clear  view  of  them. 

In  a  few  seconds,  however,  he  was  near  enough  to  dis- 
tinguish something  more  than  the  tents.  They  stood  in  a 
sort  of  circle  of  about  twenty  yards  in  diametei',  and  within 
this  could  be  seen  the  forms  of  men,  women,  and  children. 
Around  were  animals  of  different  sorts,  —  horses,  camels, 
sheep,  goats,  and  dogs,  grouped  according  to  their  kind,  with 
the  exception  of  the  dog-=,  which  appeared  to  be  straying 
everywhere.  This  varied  tableau  was  distinctly  visible  un- 
der the  light  of  a  full,  mellow  moon. 

There  were  voices,  —  shouting  and  singing.  There  was 
music,  made  upon  some  rude  instrument.  The  human 
forms,  —  both  of  men  and  women,  —  were  in  motion,  cir- 
cling and  springing  about.  The  sailor  saw  they  were  danc- 
ing. 

He  heard,  and  saw,  all  this  in  a  score  of  seconds,  as  the 
maherry  hurried  him  forward  into  tlieir  midst.  The  en- 
campment was  close  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill  round  which 
the  camel  had  carried  him.  He  had  at  length  made  up  his 
mind  to  dismount  coute  que  coute  ;  but  there  was  no  time. 
Before  he  could  make  a  movement  to  ^mg  himself  from  the 
shoulders  ot  the  animal,  he  saw  that  he  was  discovered.  A 
cry  coming  from  the  tents  admonished  him  of  this  fact.  It 
was  too  late  to  attempt  a  retreat,  and,  in  a  state  of  despond- 
ing stupor,  he  stuck  to  the  saddle.  Not  much  longer.  The 
camel,  with  a  snorting  scream,  responding  to  the  call  of  its 
fellows,  rushed  on  into  the  encampment,  —  right  into  the 
very  circle  of  the  dancers ;  and  there  amidst  the  shouts  of 


A  SERIO-COMICAL   RECEPTION.  7b 

men,  the  screeches  of  women,  the  yelling  of  children,  the 
neighing  of  horses,  the  bleaUng  of  sheep  and  goats,  and 
the  barking  of  a  score  or  two  of  cur  dogs,  —  the  animal 
stopped,  with  such  abrupt  suddenness  that  its  rider,  after 
performing  a  somersault  through  the  air,  came  down  on 
all -fours,  in  front  of  its  projecting  snout ! 

In  such  fashion  was  Sailor  Bill  introduced  to  the  Arab 
encampment. 


CHAP  TEH    XXI. 

A    SERIO-CO.MICAL    RECEPTION. 

iT  need  scarce  be  said  that  the  advent  of  the  stranger 
produced  some  surprise  amo.ig  the  Terpsichorean  crowd, 
into  the  midst  of  which  he  had  been  so  unceremoniously  pro- 
jected. And  yet  this  surprise  was  not  such  as  might  have 
been  expected.  One  might  suppose  that  an  English  man-o'- 
war's-man  in  pilot-cloth,  pea-jacket,  glazed  hat,  and  wide  duck 
trousers,  would  have  been  a  singular  sight  to  the  eyes  of  the 
dark-skinned  individuals  who  now  encircled  them  —  dressed 
as  all  of  them  were  in  gay  colored  floating  shawl-robes, 
slipped  or  sandalled  feet,  and  with  fez  caps  or  turbans  on 
their  heads. 

Not  a  bit  of  a  singular  sight :  neither  the  color  of  his  skin, 
/.or  his  sailor-costume,  had  caused  surprise  to  those  who  sur- 
rounded him.  Both  were  matters  witli  which  they  were 
well  acquainted  —  alas !  too  well. 

The  astonishment  they  had  exhibited  arose  simply  from 
the  sansfagons  manner  of  his  coming  amongst  them  ;  and  or 
the  in  taut  after  it  disappi;ared,  giving  place  to  a  feeling  of 
a  diiferent  kind. 

4 


74  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Succeeding  to  the  shouts  of  surprise,  arose  a  simuUaneout 
peal  of  laughter  from  men,  women,  and  children  ;  in  which 
oven  the  animals  seemed  to  join  —  more  especially  the  ma-^ 
herry,  who  stood  with  its  uncouth  head  craned  over  its  dis- 
mounted rider,  and  looking  uncontrollably  comic  ! 

In  the  midst  of  this  universal  exclamation  the  sailor  rose 
to  his  feet.  He  might  have  been  disconcerted  by  the  recep- 
tion, had  his  senses  been  clear  enough  to  comprehend  what 
was  passing.  But  they  were  not.  The  effects  of  that  fear- 
ful somersault  had  confused  him ;  and  he  had  only  risen  to 
an  erect  attitude,  under  a  vague  instinct  or  desire  to  escape 
from  that  company. 

After  staggering  some  paces  over  the  ground,  his  thoughts 
returned  to  him ;  and  he  more  dearly  comprehended  his 
situation.  Escape  was  out  of  the  question.  He  was  prisoner 
io  a  party  of  wandering  Bedouins,  —  the  worst  to  be  found 
in  all  the  wide  expanse  of  the  Saiiran  desert,  —  the  wreck- 
ers of  the  Atlantic  coast. 

The  sailor  might  have  felt  surprised  at  seeing  a  collection 
of  familiar  objects  into  the  midst  of  which  he  had  wandered. 
By  the  doorway  of  a  tent,  —  one  of  the  largest  upon  the 
ground, — there  was  a  pile  o^  porapheriuib'a,  evury  avtlde 
of  which  was  tropical,  not  of  the  Saara,  but  the  sea.  There 
were  "  belongings  "  of  the  cabin  and  caboose,  —  the  'tween 
decks,  and  the  forecastle,  —  all  equally  proclaiming  them- 
selves the  debris  of  a  castaway  shii). 

The  sailor  could  have  no  conjectures  as  to  the  vessel  to 
which  they  had  belonged.  He  knew  the  articles  by  sight,  — 
one  and  all  of  them.  They  were  the  spoils  of  the  corvette, 
that  had  been  washed  ashore,  and  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
the  wreckers. 

Amotig  them  Old  Bill  saw  some  things  that  had  apper- 
tained to  himself. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  enc^impment,  by  another  large 
fpat,  v»  IS  a  second  pile  of  ship's  equipments,  like  the  first 


A  SRRIO-COMICAL  RECEPTION  75 

guarded  by  a  sentinel  who  squatted  beside  it :  the  sailor 
iooked  aromd  in  expectation  to  see  some  of  the  corvette's 
crew.  Some  might  have  escaped  like  himself  and  liis  three 
companions  by  reaching  the  shore  on  cask,  hoop,  or  spar. 
If  so,  they  had  not  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  wreckers; 
or  if  they  had,  they  were  not  in  the  camp  —  unless,  indeed, 
they  might  be  inside  some  of  the  tents.  This  was  not  likely. 
Most  probably  they  had  all  been  drowned,  or  had  succumbed 
to  a  worse  fate  than  drowning  —  death  at  the  hands  of  the 
cruel  coast  robbers,  who  now  surrounded  the  survivor. 

The  circumstances  under  which  the  old  sailor  made  these 
reflections  were  such  as  to  render  the  last  hypothesis  suffi- 
ciently probable.  He  was  being  pushed  about  and  dragged 
over  the  ground  by  two  men,  armed  with  long  curved  scim- 
itars, contesting  some  point  with  one  another,  apparently  as 
to  which  should  be  first  to  cut  off  his  head  ! 

Both  of  these  men  appeared  to  be  chiefs ;  "  sheiks "  as 
the  sailor  heard  them  called  by  their  followers,  a  party 
of  whom  —  also  with  arms  in  their  hands  —  stood  behind 
each  "  sheik "  —  all  seemingly  alike  eager  to  perform  the 
act  of  decapitation. 

So  near  seemed  the  old  sailor's  head  to  being  cut  off,  that 
for  some  seconds  he  was  not  quite  sure  whether  it  still  re- 
mained upon  his  shoulders!  He  could  not  understand  a 
word  that  passed  between  the  contending  parties,  though 
there  was  talk  enough  to  have  satisfied  a  sitting  of  parlia- 
ment, and  probably  with  about  the  same  quantity  of  sense 
in  it. 

Before  he  had  proceeded  ftir,  the  sailor  began  to  compre- 
hend,—  not  from  the  speeches  made,  but  the  gestures  tl.at 
accompanied  them,  —  that  it  was  not  the  design  of  eitlier 
party  to  cut  off  his  head.  The  drawn  scimitars,  sweeping 
through  the  air,  were  not  aimed  at  his  neck,  but  rather  in 
mmual  menace  of  one  another. 

Old  Bill  could  see  that  there  was  some  quarrel  bctwoea 


75  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

the  two  sheiks,  of  which  he  was  himself  the  cause ;  that  thf 
camp  was  not  a  unity  consisting  of  a  single  chief,  his  family, 
and  ibilowing;  but  that  there  were  too  separate  leaders,  each 
with  his  adherents,  perhaps  temporarily  associated  together 
for  purposes  of  plundei'. 

That  they  had  collected  the  wreck  of  the  corvette,  and 
divided  the  spoils  between  them,  was  evident  from  the  two 
heaps  being  kept  carefully  apart,  each  piled  up  near  the  tent 
of  a  chief. 

The  old  man-o'-war's-man  made  his  observations  in  the 
midst  of  great  difficulties :  for  while  noting  these  particu- 
lars, he  was  pulled  about  the  place,  first  by  one  sheik,  then 
by  the  other,  each  retaining  his  disputed  person  in  tempo- 
rary possession. 

From  the  manner  in  which  they  acted,  he  could  tell  that 
it  was  his  person  that  was  the  subject  of  dispute,  and  that 
both  wanted  to  be  the  proprietor  of  it. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

THE    TWO    SUEIKS. 

rilHERE  was  a  remarkable  difference  between  the  two 
i  men  thus  claiming  ownersliip  in  the  body  of  Old  Bill. 
One  was  a  little  wizen-faced  individual,  whose  yellow  com- 
plexion and  sharp,  angular  features  proclaimed  him  of  the 
Arab  stock,  while  his  competitor  showed  a  skin  of  almost 
ebon  blackness  —  a  frame  of  herculean  development  —  a 
broad  lace,  with  flat  nose  and  thick  lubberly  lips  —  a  nead 
of  enormous  circumference,  surmounted  by  a  mop  of  woolly 
hair,  standing  erect  several  inches  above  his  occiput. 

Had  tlie  sailor  been  addicted  to  ethnological  spcculatious, 


THE  TWO  SHEIKS.  77 

he  might  have  derived  an  interesting  lesson  from  ihat  coii* 
test,  of  which  he  was  tlie  cause.  It  miglit  have  helped  him 
to  a  knowledge  of  the  geography  of  the  country  in  which 
he  had  been  cast,  for  he  was  now  upon  that  neutral  lerri* 
tory  where  the  true  Ethiopian  —  the  son  of  Ham  —  occar- 
sionally  contests  possession,  both  of  the  soil  and  the  slave, 
with  the  wandering  cliildreu  of  Japhet. 

The  two  men  who  were  thus  quarrelling  about  the  pos- 
session of  the  English  tar,  though  both  of  African  origin, 
could  scarce  have  been  more  unlike  had  their  native  coun- 
try been  the  antipodes  of  each  other. 

Their  object  was  not  so  different,  though  even  in  thig 
there  was  a  certain  dissimilation.  Both  designed  making 
the  shipwrecked  sailor  a  slave.  But  the  sheik  of  Arab  as- 
pects wished  to  possess  him,  with  a  view  to  his  ultimate 
ransom.  He  knew  that  by  carrying  him  northwards  there 
would  be  a  chance  to  dispose  of  him  at  a  good  price,  either 
to  the  Jew  merchants  at  Wedinoin,  or  the  European  con- 
suls at  Mogadon  It  would  not  be  the  first  Saarian  casta- 
way he  had  in  this  manner  restored  to  his  friends  and  his 
country  —  not  from  any  motives  of  humanity,  but  simply 
for  the  profit  it  produced. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  black  competitor  had  a  different, 
though  somewhat  similar,  purpose  in  view.  His  tlioughts 
extended  towards  the  south.  There  lay  the  emporium  of 
his  commerce,  —  the  great  mud-built  town  of  Timbuctoo. 
Little  as  a  white  man  was  esteemed  among  the  Arab  mer- 
chants when  considered  as  a  mere  slave,  the  sable  sheik 
knew  that  in  the  south  of  the  Saiira  he  would  command  a 
price,  if  only  as  a  curiosity  to  figure  among  the  followers  of 
the  sultan  of  some  grand  interior  city.  For  this  reason, 
therefore,  was  the  black  determined  upon  the  possession  of 
Bill,  and  showed  as  much  eagerness  to  become  his  owner  aa 
ijd  his  tawny  competitor. 

After  several  minutes  spent  in  words  and  gestures  of  mi* 


78  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

tual  4  lenace,  wliich,  from  the  wild  shouts  and  flourishing  ol 
scimitars,  seemed  as  if  it  could  only  end  in  a  general  lop« 
ping  off  of  heads,  somewhat  to  tlie  astonishment  of  the 
sailor,  tranquillity  became  restored  without  any  one  receiv- 
ing scratch  or  cut. 

The  scimitars  were  returned  to  their  scabbards;  and 
although  the  affair  did  not  appear  to  be  decided,  the  contest 
was  now  carried  on  in  a  more  pacific  fashion  by  words.  A 
long  argument  ensued,  in  which  both  sheiks  displayed  their 
oratorial  powers.  Though  the  sailor  could  not  understand 
a  word  of  what  was  said,  he  could  tell  that  the  little  Arab 
was  urging  his  ownership,  on  the  plea  that  the  camel  which 
had  carried  the  captive  into  the  encampment  was  his  prop- 
erty, and  on  this  account  was  he  entitled  to  the  "  waif." 

The  black  seemed  altogether  to  dissent  from  this  doctrine; 
on  liis  side  pointing  to  the  two  heaps  of  plunder ;  as  much  as 
to  say  that  his  share  of  the  spoils  —  already  obtained  —  was 
the  smaller  one. 

At  this  crisis  a  third  party  stepped  betM'een  the  two  dis- 
putants —  a  young  fellow,  who  appeared  to  have  some 
authority  with  both.  His  behavior  told  Bill  that  he  was  act- 
ing as  mediator.  Whatever  was  the  proposal  made  by  him, 
it  appeared  to  satisfy  both  parties,  as  both  at  once  desisted 
from  their  wordy  warfiire  —  at  the  same  time  that  they 
seemed  preparing  to  settle  the  dispute  in  some  other  way. 

The  mode  was  soon  made  apparent.  A  spot  of  smooth, 
even  sand  was  selected  by  the  side  of  the  encampment,  to 
which  the  t  vo  sheiks,  followed  by  their  respective  parties, 
repaired. 

A  square  figure  was  traced  out,  inside  of  which  several 
rows  of  little  round  holes  were  scooped  in  the  sand,  and  then 
the  rival  sheiks  sat  down,  one  on  each  side  of  the  figure. 
Each  had  already  provided  himself  with  a  number  of  pellets 
of  camels'  dung,  which  were  now  placed  in  the  holes,  and 
the  play  of  "  helga"  was  now  commenced. 


TETE  TWO  SHIEKS.  79 

Whoever  ■won  the  game  was  to  become  possessed  of  the 
single  stake,  wliich  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  Sailor 
Bill. 

The  game  proceeded  by  the  shifting  of  the  dung  pelleta 
in  a  particular  fashion,  from  hole  to  hole,  somewhat  similar 
to  the  moving  of  draughts  upon  the  squares  of  a  checker- 
board. 

During  the  play  not  a  word  was  spoken  by  either  party, 
the  two  sheiks  squatting  opposite  each  other,  and  making 
their  moves  with  as  much  gravity  as  a  pair  of  chess-players 
engaged  in  some  grand  tournament  of  this  intellectual 
game. 

It  was  only  when  the  affair  ended,  that  the  noise  broke 
forth  again,  which  it  did  in  loud,  triumphant  shouts  from 
the  conquering  party,  with  expressions  of  chagi-in  on  the 
side  of  the  conquered. 

By  interpreting  these  shouts.  Bill  could  tell  that  he  had 
fallen  to  the  black  ;  and  this  was  soon  after  placed  beyond 
doubt  by  the  latter  coming  up  and  taking  possession  of  him. 

It  appeared,  however,  that  there  had  been  certain  sub- 
siding conditions  to  the  play,  and  that  the  sailor  had  been 
in  some  way  or  another  staked  against  his  oion  clothes  ;  for 
before  being  fully  appropriated  by  his  owner  he  was  stripped 
to  his  shirt,  and  his  habiliments,  shoes  and  sou'-wester  in- 
cluded, were  handed  over  to  the  sheik  who  had  played 
Becond-best  in  the  game  of  "  helga." 

In  this  forlorn  condition  was  the  old  sailor  conducted  to 
the  tent  of  his  sable  master,  and  placed  like  an  additional 
piece  upon  the  pile  of  plunder  already  apportioned  I 


80  ,     THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

SAILOR    BILL    BESUKEWED. 

SAILOR  BILL  said  not  a  word.  He  had  no  voice  in 
the  disposal  ol'  the  stakes,  —  which  were  himself  and 
his  "  toggery,"  —  and,  knowing  this,  he  remained  silent. 

He  was  not  allowed  to  remain  undisturbed.  During  the 
progress  of  the  game,  he  had  become  the  cynosure  of  a  large 
circle  of  eyes,  —  belonging  to  the  women  and  children  of 
the  united  tribes. 

He  might  have  looked  for  some  compassion,  —  at  least, 
from  the  female  portion  of  those  who  formed  his  entourage. 
Half  famished  with  hunger,  —  a  fact  which  he  did  not  fail 
to  communicate  by  signs,  —  he  might  liave  expected  them 
to  relieve  his  wants.  The  circumstance  of  Ids  mailing  them 
known  might  argue,  tliat  he  did  expect  some  sort  of  kind 
treatment. 

It  was  not  much,  however.  His  hopes  were  but  slight, 
and  sprang  rather  from  a  knowledge  of  his  own  necessities, 
and  of  what  the  women  ought  to  liave  done,  than  wliat  they 
were  likely  to  do.  Old  Bill  had  heiu-d  too  much  of  the 
character  of  these  hags  of  the  Saiira,  —  and  their  mode  of 
5onducting  themselves  towards  any  unfortunate  castaway 
who  might  be  drifted  among  tliem,  —  to  expect  any  great 
hospitality  at  their  hands. 

His  hopes,  therefore,  were  moderate ;  but,  for  all  that, 
they  were  doomed  to  disappointment. 

Perhaps  in  no  other  [)art  of  the  world  is  the  "  milk  of  hu- 
man kindness  "  so  completely  wanting  in  the  female  breast, 
as  among  the  women  of  the  wandering  Arabs  of  Airica. 
Slaves  to  their  imperious  lords,  —  even  when  enjoying  the 
eacred  title  of  wife,  —  they  are  themselves  treated  worse 
*han  the  arimals  which  they  have  to  manage  and  tend,-— 


SAILOR   BILL   BESHREWED.  81 

even  worso  at  times  than  their  own  bond-slaves,  with  whom 
they  mingle  almost  on  an  equality.  As  in  all  like  cases,  this 
harsh  usage,  instead  of  producing  sympathy  for  others  who 
suffer,  has  the  very  opposite  tendency;  as  if  they  found 
Bome  alleviation  of  their  cruel  lot  in  imitating  the  brutality 
of  their  oppressors. 

Instead  of  receiving  kindness,  the  old  sailor  becAme  the 
recipient  of  insults,  not  only  from  their  tongues,  —  which  he 
could  not  understand,  —  but  by  acts  and  gestures  which  were 
perfectly  comprehensible  to  him. 

While  his  ears  were  dinned  by  virulent  speeches,  —  which, 
could  he  have  comprehended  them,  would  have  told  him  how 
much  he  was  despised  for  being  an  infidel,  and  not  a  follow- 
er of  the  true  prophet,  —  while  his  eyes  were  well-nigh  put 
out  by  dust  thrown  in  his  face,  —  accompanied  by  spiteful 
expectorations,  —  his  body  was  belabored  by  sticks,  his  skin 
scratched  and  pricked  with  sharp  thorns,  his  whiskers  lugged 
almost  to  the  dislocation  of  his  jaws,  and  the  hair  of  his 
head  uprooted  in  fistfuls  from  his  pericranium. 

All  this,  too,  amid  screams  and  fiendish  laughter,  that  re- 
sembled an  orgie  of  furies. 

These  women  —  she-devils  they  better  deserved  to  be 
called  —  were  simply  following  out  the  teachings  of  their 
inhuman  faith,  —  among  religions,  even  that  of  Rome  not 
excepted,  tlie  most  inhuman  that  has  ever  cursed  mankind. 
Had  old  Bill  been  a  believer  in  their  "  Prophet,"  that  false 
seer  of  the  blood-stained  sword,  their  treatment  of  him 
■would  have  been  directly  the  reverse.  Instead  of  kicks  and 
cufis,  bustlings  and  scratchings,  he  would  have  been  made 
welcome  to  a  share  in  such  hospitality  as  they  could  have 
bestowed  upon  him.  It  was  religion,  not  nature,  made  them 
act  as  they  did.  Their  hardness  of  heart  came  not  from 
God,  but  the  Prophet.  They  were  only  carrying  out  the 
edicts  of  their  "  priests  of  a  bloody  faith." 

In  vain  did  the  old  man-o'-war's-man  cry  out  "  belaj  * 
4*  T 


82  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

and  ''  dvast."  In  v^ain  did  he  "  shiver  his  timbers,"  and  ap- 
peal against  their  scurvy  treatment,  by  looks,  words,  and 
gesture. 

These  seemed  only  to  augment  the  mirth  and  spitefuluesa 
of  his  tormentors. 

In  this  scene  of  cruelty  there  was  one  woman  conspicuous 
among  the  rest.  By  her  companions  she  was  called  Fatima. 
The  old  sailor,  ignorant  of  Arabic  feminine  names,  thought 
"  it  a  misnomer,"  for  of  all  his  she-persecutors  she  was  the 
leanest  and  sci-aggiest.  Notwithstanding  the  poetical  no- 
tions which  the  readers  of  Oriental  romance  might  associate 
with  her  name,  there  was  not  much  poetry  about  the  per- 
sonage who  so  assiduously  assaulted  Sailor  Bill,  —  pulling 
his  whiskers,  slapping  his  cheeks,  and  every  now  and  then 
spitting  in  liis  face  ! 

She  was  something  more  than  middle-aged,  short,  squat, 
and  meagre;  with  the  eye-teeth  projecting  on  both  sides,-  so 
as  to  hold  up  the  upper  lip,  and  exhibit  all  the  others  in 
their  ivory  whiteness,  with  an  expression  resembling  that  of 
the  hyena.  This  is  considered  beauty,  —  a  fashion  in  full 
vogue  among  her  countrywomen,  who  cultivate  it  \n\X\  great 
care,  —  though  to  the  eyes  of  the  old  sailor  it  rendered  the 
hag  all  the  more  hideous. 

But  the  skinning  of  eye-teeth  was  not  the  only  attempt 
at  ornament  made  by  this  belle  of  the  Desert.  Strings 
of  black  beads  hung  over  her  wrinkled  bosom ;  circlets  of 
white  bone  were  set  in  her  hair ;  armlets  and  bangles 
adorned  her  wrists  and  ankles,  and  altogether  did  her  cos- 
tume and  behavior  betoken  one  distinguished  among  the 
crowd  of  his  persecutors,  —  in  short,  their  sultana  or  queen. 
And  such  did  she  prove  ;  for  on  the  black  sheik  appro- 
priating the  old  sailor  as  a  stake  fairly  won  in  the  game,  and 
rescuing  his  newly-acquired  property  from  the  clanger  of  be« 
ing  damaged,  Fatima  followed  him  to  his  tent  with  such  dem- 
onstrations as  showed  her  to  be,  if  not  the  ''  favorite,"  cer- 
tainly the  head  of  the  harem. 


STARTING  ON  THE  TRACK.  83 

CHAPTER    XKIV. 

STARTING    ON    THE    TRACK. 

AS  already  said,  the  mirth  of  the  three  midship  men 
Mas  brought  to  a  quick  termination.  It  ended  on  the 
instant  of  Sailor  Bill's  disajjpearance  behind  tlie  spur  \f  the 
eand-hills.  At  the  same  instant  all  three  came  to  a  stop, 
and  stood  regarding  one  another  with  looks  of  uneasiness 
and  apprehension. 

All  agreed  that  the  maherry  had  made  away  with  the 
old  man-o'-war's-man.  There  could  be  no  doubt  about  it. 
Bill's  shouts,  as  he  was  hurried  out  of  their  hearing,  proved 
that  he  was  doing  his  best  to  bring  to,  and  that  the  "  ship 
of  tlie  desert"  would  not  yield  obedience  to  her  helm. 

They  wondered  a  little  why  he  had  not  slipped  off,  and 
let  the  animal  go.  They  could  not  see  why  he  should  fear 
to  drop  down  in  the  soft  sand.  He  might  have  had  a  tum- 
ble, but  nothing  to  do  him  any  serious  injury,  —  nothing  to 
break  a  bone,  or  dislocate  a  joint.  They  supposed  he  had 
stuck  to  the  saddle,  from  not  wishing  to  abandon  the  ma- 
herry, and  in  hope  of  soon  bringing  it  to  a  halt. 

This  was  just  what  he  had'  done,  for  the  first  three  or 
four  hundred  yards.  After  that  he  would  only  have  been 
too  well  satisfied  to  separate  from  the  camel,  and  let  it  go 
its  way.  But  then  he  was  among  the  rough,  jaggy  rocks 
through  which  the  path  led,  and  then  dismounting  was  no 
longer  to  be  thought  of,  without  also  thinking  of  danger, 
considering  that  the  camel  was  nearly  ten  feet  in  height, 
and  going  at  a  pitching  pace  of  ten  miles  to  the  hour.  To 
have  foi-saken  his  saddle  at  that  moment  would  have  been 
to  risk  the  breaking  of  his  neck. 

From  where  they  stood  looking  after  him,  the  mids  could 
not  make  out  the  character  of  the  ground.    Under  the  light 


84  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

of  the  moon,  the  fcurface  seemed  all  of  a  piece,  —  all  a  bed 
of  smooth  soft  sand  !  For  this  reason  were  they  perplexed 
Dy  his  behavior. 

There  was  that  in  the  incident  to  make  them  apprehensive. 
The  maherry  would  not  have  gone  off  at  such  a  gait,  with- 
out some  powerful  motive  to  impel  it.  Up  to  that  moment  it 
had  shown  no  particular  j9ewcAa?2«  for  rapid  travelling,  but  had 
been  going,  under  their  guidance,  with  a  steady,  sober  docil- 
ity. Something  mnst  have  attracted  it  towards  the  interior. 
What  could  that  something  be,  if  not  the  knowledge  that  its 
home,  or  its  companions,  were  to  be  found  in  this  direc- 
tion ? 

This  was  the  conjecture  that  came  simultaneously  into  the 
minds  of  all  three,  —  as  is  known,  the  correct  one. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  their  companion  had  been 
carried  towards  an  encampment ;  for  no  other  kind  of  settle- 
ment could  be  thought  of  in  such  a  place.  It  was  even  a 
wonder  that  this  could  exist  in  the  midst  of  a  dreary,  wild 
expanse  of  pure  sand,  like  that  surrounding  them.  Perhaps, 
thouglit  they,  there  may  be  "  land  "  towards  the  interior  of 
the  country,  —  a  spot  of  firm  soil,  with  vegetation  upon  it ; 
in  short,  an  oasis. 

After  their  first  surprise  had  partially  subsided,  they  took 
counsel  as  to  their  course.  Should  they  stay  where  they 
were,  and  wait  for  Bill's  return  ?  Or  should  they  follow,  in 
the  hope  of  overtaking  him  ? 

Perhaps  he  might  not  return.  If  carried  into  a  camp  of 
barbarous  savages,  it  was  not  likely  that  he  would.  He 
would  be  seized  and  held  captive  to  a  dead  certainty.  But 
purely  he  would  not  be  such  a  simpleton,  as  to  allow  the  ma- 
herry to  transport  him  into  the  midst  of  his  enemies. 

Again  sprang  up  their  surprise  at  his  not  having  made  an 
effort  to  dismount. 

For  some  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  the  midshipmen  stood 
hesitating,  —  their  eyes  all  the  while  bent  on  the  moonlit 


STARTING   ON  THE  TRACK.  85 

opening,  tlirougli  which  the  maherry  had  dif  appeared.  There 
were  no  signs  of  anything  in  the  pass,  —  at  least  anything 
like  either  a  camel  or  a  sailor.  Only  the  bright  beams  of 
the  moon  glittering  upon  crystals  of  purest  sand. 

They  thought  they  heard  sounds,  —  the  cries  of  quadr'^- 
peds  mingling  with  the  voices  of  men.  There  were  voices, 
too,  of  shriller  intonation,  that  might  have  proceeded  from 
the  throats  of  women. 

Colin  was  confident  he  heard  such.  He  was  not  contra 
dieted  by  his  companions,  who  simply  said,  they  could  not 
be  sure  that  they  heard  anything. 

But  for  the  constant  roar  of  the  breakers,  —  rolling  up 
almost  to  the  spot  upon  which  they  stood,  —  they  would 
have  declared  themselves  differently ;  hr  at  that  moment 
there  was  a  chorus  being  carried  on  at  no  great  distance,  in 
a  variety  of  most  unmusical  sounds,  —  comprising  the  bark 
of  the  dog,  the  neigh  of  the  horse,  tne  snorting  scream  of 
the  dromedary,  the  bleat  of  the  sheep,  and  the  sharper  cry 
of  its  near  kindred  the  goat,  —  along  with  the  equally  wild 
and  scarce  more  articulate  utterances  of  savage  men,  women, 
and  children. 

Colin  was  convinced  that  he  heard  all  these  sounds,  and 
declared  that  they  could  only  proceed  from  some  encamp- 
ment. His  companions,  knowing  that  the  young  Scotchman 
was  sharp-eared,  made  no  attempt  to  question  his  behef :  but, 
on  the  contrary,  gave  ready  credence  to  it. 

Under  any  circumstances  it  seemed  of  no  use  to  remain 
where  they  were.  If  Bill  did  not  return,  they  were  bound 
in  honor  to  go  after  him ;  and,  if  possible,  find  out  what  had 
become  of  him.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  should  be  coming 
back,  they  must  meet  him  somewhere  in  the  pass,  —  through 
which  the  camel  had  carried  him  off.  —  since  there  was  no 
other  by  which  he  might  conveniently  get  back  to  them. 

This  point  determined,  the  three  mids,  setting  their  faces 
for  the  interior  of  the  country,  stjirted  olF  towards  the  break 
between  the  sand-hills. 


M  TH5  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

BILL    TO    BE    ABANDONED 

rS^HEY  proceeded  with  caution,  —  Colin  even  more  thaa 
JL  his  companions.  The  young  Englishman  was  not  so 
distrustful  of  the  "  natives,"  whoever  they  might  be,  as  the 
son  of  Scotia ;  and  as  for  O'Connor,  he  still  persisted  in  the 
oelief  that  there  would  be  little,  if  any,  danger  in  meeting 
with  men,  and,  in  his  arguments,  still  continued  to  urge  seek- 
ing such  an  encounter  as  the  best  course  they  could  pursue. 

"  Besides,"  said  Terence,  "  Coly  says  he  hears  the  voices 
of  women  and  children.  Sure  no  human  creature  that 's 
got  a  woman  and  chUd  in  his  company  would  be  such  a 
cruel  brute  as  you  make  out  this  desert  Ethiopian  to  be  ? 
Sailors'  stories,  to  gratify  the  melodramatic  ears  of  Moll  and 
Poll  and  Sue  !  Bah  !  if  there  be  an  encampment,  let 's  go 
straight  into  it,  and  demand  hospitality  of  them.  Sure  they 
must  be  Arabs ;  and  sure  you  've  heard  enough  of  Arab 
hospitality  ?  " 

"  More  than  's  true,  Terry,"  rejoined  the  young  English- 
man.    "  More  than  's  true,  I  fear." 

"  You  may  well  say  that,"  said  Colin,  confirmingly.  "  From 
what  I  've  heard  and  read,  —  ay,  and  from  something  I  've 
iieen  while  up  the  Mediterranean,  —  a  more  beggarly  hosjii- 
tality  than  that  called  Arab  don't  exist  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  It 's  all  well  enough,  so  long  as  you  are  one  of  them- 
selves, and,  like  them,  a  believer  in  their  pretended  prophet. 
Beyond  that,  an  Arab  has  got  no  more  hospitality  than  a 
hyena.  You  're  both  fond  of  talking  about  skin-flint  Scotcb- 
men." 

"  True,"  interrupted  Terence,  who,  even  in  that  serious 
eituation,  could  not  resist  such  a  fine  opportunity  for  dis- 
playing his  Irish  hjmoi*.     "  I  never  think  of  a  Scotchmao 


Bin    TO  BE  ABANDONED.  87 

vnthout  thinking  of  nis  skin.  '  God  bless  the  gude  Duke 
of  Argyle ! ' " 

"  Shame,  Terence  !  "  interrupted  Harry  Blount ;  "  out 
situation  is  too  serious  for  jesting." 

«  He  —  all  of  us  —  may  find  it  so  before  long,"  continued 
Colin,  preser^ang  his  temper  unruffled.  "  If  that  yelling 
crowd  —  that  I  can  now  hear  plainer  than  ever  —  should 
come  upon  us,  we  '11  have  something  else  to  think  of  than 
jokes  about '  gude  Duke  o'  Argyle.'  Hush  !  Do  you  hear 
that  ?  Does  it  convince  you  that  men  and  women  are  near  ? 
There  are  scores  of  both  kinds." 

CoHn  had  come  to  a  stop,  the  others  imitating  his  exam- 
ple. They  were  now  more  distant  from  the  breakers,  — 
whose  roar  was  somewhat  deadened  by  the  intervention  of  a 
sand-spur.  In  consequence,  the  other  sounds  were  heard 
more  distinctly.  They  could  no  longer  be  mistaken,  —  even 
by  the  incredulous  O'Connor. 

There  were  voices  of  men,  women,  and  children,  —  cries 
and  calls  of  quadrupeds,  —  each  according  to  its  own  kind, 
all  mingled  together  in  what  might  have  been  taken  for 
some  nocturnal  saturnalia  of  the  Desert. 

The  crisis  was  that  in  which  Sailor  Bill  had  become  a 
subject  of  dispute  between  the  two  sheiks,  —  in  which  not 
only  their  respective  followers  of  the  biped  kind  appeared 
to  take  part,  but  also  every  quadruped  in  the  camp,  —  dogs 
and  dromedaries,  horses,  goats,  and  sheep,  —  as  if  each  had 
an  interest  in  the  ownership  of  the  old  man-o'-war's-man. 

The  grotesque  chorus  was  succeeded  by  an  interval  ot 
silence,  uninterrupted  and  profound.  This  was  while  the 
two  sheiks  were  playing  their  game  of  "  helga,"  —  the 
«  chequers "  of  the  Saara,  with  Sailor  Bill  as  their  stake. 

During  this  tranquil  interlude,  the  three  midshipmen  had 
advanced  through  the  rock-strewn  ravine,  had  crept  cau- 
tiously inside  the  ridges  that  encircled  the  camp,  and  con- 
cealed by  the  b^vlvsg  bushes  of  mimosa,  and  favored  by  tLa 


88  THE  BOY  SLATES. 

light  of  a  full  moon,  had  approached  near  enough  to  tak^ 
note  of  what  was  passing  among  the  tents. 

What  they  saw  there,  and  then,  was  confirmatory  of  the 
theory  of  the  young  Scotchman  ;  and  convmced  not  onlj 
Harry  Blount,  but  Terence  O'Connor,  that  the  stories  of 
Arab  hospitality  were  not  only  untrue,  buf  diametrically 
opposed  to  the  truth. 

There  was  old  Bill  before  their  faces,  stripped  to  the 
shirt,  —  to  the  "buff,"  —  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  short, 
squat  women,  dark-skinned,  with  black  hair,  and  eyes  spar- 
kling in  the  moonlight,  who  were  torturing  hira  with  tongue 
and  touch,  —  who  pinched  and  spat  upon  him,  —  who  looked 
altogether  like  a  band  of  infernal  Furies  collected  around 
some  innocent  victim  that  had  fallen  among  them,  and  giv- 
ing full  play  to  their  fiendish  instincts ! 

Although  they  were  witnesses  to  the  subsequent  rescue 
of  Bill  by  the  black  sheik,  —  and  the  momentary  release  of 
the  old  sailor  from  his  tormentors,  —  it  did  not  increase 
their  confidence  in  the  crew  who  occupied  the  encampment. 

From  the  way  in  which  the  old  salt  appeared  to  be 
treated,  they  could  tell  that  he  was  regarded  by  the  hosts 
into  whose  hands  he  had  fallen,  not  as  a  guest,  but  simply 
as  a  "  piece  of  goods,"  — just  like  any  other  waif  of  the 
wreck  that  had  been  washed  on  that  inhospitable  shore. 

In  whispers  the  three  mids  made  known  their  thoughts  to 
one  another.  Hai'ry  Blount  no  longer  doubted  the  truth  of 
Colin's  statements  ;  and  O'Connor  had  become  equally  con- 
verted from  his  increduhty.  The  conduct  of  the  women  to- 
wards the  unfortunate  castaway  —  whicli  all  three  witnessed 
—  told  Uke  the  tongue  of  a  trumpet.  It  was  cruel  beyond 
question.  What,  when  exercised,  must  be  that  of  their 
men  ? 

To  think  of  leaving  their  old  comrade  in  such  keeping 
was  not  a  pleasant  reflection.  It  was  like  their  abandon- 
ing him  upon  the  sand-spit,  —  to  tlie  threatening  engulf- 


A  CAUTIOUS  RETREAT.  89 

ment  of  the  tide.  Even  worse  :  for  the  angry  breakers 
seemed  less  spi  eful  than  the  hags  who  surrounded  him  ui 
the  Arab  camp. 

Still,  what  could  the  boys  do  ?  Three  midshipraeti,  — i 
armed  only  with  their  tiny  dirks,  —  what  chance  would  they 
have  among  so  many?  There  were  scores  of  these  sinewy 
sons  of  the  Desert,  — without  counting  the  shrewish  women, 
—  each  armed  with  gun  and  scimitar,  any  one  of  whom 
ought  to  have  been  more  than  a  match  for  a  "  mid."  It 
would  have  been  sheer  folly  to  have  attempted  a  rescue. 
Despair  only  could  have  sanctioned  such  a  course. 

In  a  whispered  consultation  ic  was  determined  otherwise. 
The  old  sailor  must  be  abandoned  to  his  fate,  just  as  he  had 
been  left  upon  the  sand-spit.  His  youthful  companions 
could  only  breathe  a  prayer  in  his  behalf,  and  express  a 
hope  that,  as  upon  the  latter  occasion,  some  providential 
chance  should  turn  up  in  his  favor,  and  he  might  again  be 
permitted  to  rejoin  them. 

After  communicating  this  hope  to  one  another,  all  three 
turned  their  faces  shoreward,  determined  to  put  as  much 
space  between  themselves  and  the  Arab  encampment  aa 
night  and  circumstances  would  permit. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A    CAUTIOUS   RETREAT. 


THE  ravine,  up  which  the  maherry  had  carried  the  old 
man-o'-war's-man,  ran  perpendicularly  to  the  trending 
of  the  seashore,  and  almost  in  a  direct  line  from  the  beach 
to  the  valley,  in  which  was  the  Arab  encampment.  It  corld 
not,  however,  be  eaid  to  debouch  into  this  valley.     Across 


90  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

its  mouth  the  sand-drift  had  fonaed  a  barrier,  like  a  hug« 
"  snow-wreath,"  uniting  the  two  parallel  ridges  that  formed 
the  sides  of  the  ravine  itself.  This  "  mouth-iiiece "  was 
not  so  high  as  either  of  the  flanking  ridges ;  though  it  was 
nearly  a  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  beach  on  one 
side,  and  the  valley  on  the  other.  Its  crest,  viewed  en  pro- 
file, exhibited  a  saddle-shaped  curve,  the  concavity  turned 
upward. 

Through  the  centre  of  this  saddle  of  sand,  and  trans- 
versely, the  camel  had  carried  Bill ;  and  over  the  same 
track  the  three  midshipmen  had  gone  in  search  of  liim. 

They  had  seen  the  Arab  tents  from  the  summit  of  the 
"  pass  " ;  and  had  it  been  daylight,  need  have  gone  no  nearer 
to  note  what  was  being  there  done.  Even  by  the  moon- 
light, they  had  been  able  to  make  out  the  forms  of  the 
horses,  camels,  men,  and  women  ;  but  not  with  sufficient 
distinctness  to  satisfy  them  as  to  what  was  going  on. 

For  this  reason  had  they  descended  into  the  valley, — 
creeping  cautiously  down  the  slope  of  the  sand-wreath,  and 
with  equal  caution  advancing  from  boulder  to  bush,  and  bush 
to  boulder. 

On  taking  the  back  track  to  regain  the  beach,  they  still 
observed  caution,  —  though  perhaps  not  to  such  a  degree  as 
when  approaching  the  camp.  Their  desire  to  put  space 
between  themselves  and  the  barbarous  denizens  of  the  Des- 
ert, —  of  whose  barbarity  they  had  now  obtained  both  ocular 
and  auricular  proof,  —  had  very  naturally  deprived  them  of 
that  prudent  coolness  which  the  occasion  required.  For  all 
that,  they  did  not  retreat  with  reckless  rashness ;  and  all 
three  arrived  at  the  bottom  of  the  sloping  sand-ridge,  with- 
out having  any  reason  to  think  they  had  been  observed. 

But  the  most  perilous  point  was  yet  to  be  passed. 
Against  the  face  of  the  acclivity,  there  was  not  much  danger 
of  their  being  seen.  The  moon  was  shining  on  the  other 
aide.     That  which  they  had  to  ascend  was  in  shadow,—* 


A  CAUTIOUS  RETREAT.  91 

dark  enough  to  obscure  the  outlines  of  their  bodies  to  an  ey* 
looking  in  that  du'ection,  from  such  a  distance  as  the  camp. 
It  was  not  while  toiling  up  the  slope  that  they  dreaded  de- 
tection, but  at  the  moment  when  they  must  cross  tlie  saddle- 
shaped  summit  of  the  pass.  Then,  the  moon  being  low  down 
in  the  sky,  directly  in  front  of  their  faces,  while  the  camp, 
still  lower,  was  right  behind  their  backs,  it  was  not  difficult 
to  tell  that  their  bodies  would  be  exactly  aligned  between 
the  luminary  of  night  and  the  sparkling  eyes  of  the  Arabs, 
and  that  their  figures  would  be  exhibited  in  conspicuous 
outline. 

It  had  been  much  the  same  way  on  their  entrance  to  the 
oasis ;  but  then  they  were  not  so  well  po>te<l  up  in  the  peril 
of  their  position.  They  now  wondered  at  their  not  having 
been  observed  while  advancing;  but  that  could  be  ration- 
ally accounted  for,  on  the  supposition  that  the  Bedouins 
liad  been,  at  the  time,  too  busy  over  old  Bill  to  take  heed 
of  anything  beyond  the  limits  of  their  encampment. 

It  was  different  now.  There  was  quiet  in  the  camp, 
though  both  male  and  female  figures  could  be  seen  stir- 
ring among  the  tents.  The  saturnalia  that  succeeded  the 
castaway  had  come  to  a  close.  A  comparative  peacefulness 
reigned  throughout  the  valley ;  but  in  this  very  tranquillity 
lay  the  danger  which  our  adventurers  dreaded. 

With  nothing  else  to  attract  their  attention,  the  occupants 
of  the  encampments  would  be  turning  their  eyes  in  every 
direction.  If  any  of  them  should  look  westward  at  a  given 
moment,  —  that  is,  while  the  three  mids  should  be  "in  tho 
saddle,"  —  the  latter  could  not  fail  to  be  discovered. 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  There  was  no  other  way  leading 
forth  from  the  valley.  It  was  on  all  sides  encircled  by  steep 
ridges  of  sand,  —  not  so  steep  as  to  hinder  them  from  being 
Bcaled ;  but  on  every  side,  except  that  on  which  they  had 
entered,  and  by  which  they  were  about  to  make  their  ex>t, 
the  moon  was  shining  in  resplendent  brilliance.    A  cat  could 


92  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

not  have  crawled  up  anywhere,  without  being  seen  from  the 
tents,  —  even  had  she  been  of  the  hue  of  the  sand  itself. 

A  hurried  consultation,  held  between  the  trio  of  adven 
turers,  convinced  them  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  gained 
by  turning  back,  —  nothing  by  going  to  the  right  or  the  left. 
There  was  no  other  way  —  no  help  for  it  —  but  to  scale  the 
ridge  in  front,  and  "  cut "  as  quickly  as  possible  across  the 
hollow  of  the  "  saddle." 

There  was  one  other  way ;  or  at  least  a  deviation  from 
the  .'*,ourse  which  had  thus  recommended  itself.  It  was  to 
wait  for  the  going  down  of  the  moon,  before  they  should 
attempt  the  "crossing."  This  prudent  project  originated 
in  the  brain  of  the  young  Scotchman ;  and  it  might  have 
been  well  if  his  companions  had  adopted  the  idea.  But 
they  would  not.  What  they  had  seen  of  Saiu'an  civilization 
had  inspired  them  with  a  keen  disgust  for  it ;  and  they  were 
only  too  eager  to  escape  from  its  proximity.  The  punish- 
ment inflicted  upon  poor  Bill  had  made  a  painfid  impression 
upon  them ;  and  they  had  no  desire  to  become  the  victims 
of  a  similar  chastisement. 

Cohn  did  not  urge  his  counsels.  He  had  been  as  much 
impressed  by  what  he  had  seen  as  his  companions,  and  was 
quite  as  desirous  as  they  to  give  the  Bedouins  a  "  wide  berth." 
Withdrawing  his  opposition,  therefore,  he  acceded  to  the 
original  design  ;  and,  without  further  ado,  all  three  com* 
menced  crawling  up  the  slope. 


A   QUEER  QUADRUPED.  93 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

A    QUEER    QUADRUPED. 

HALF  way  up,  they  halted,  though  not  to  take  breath. 
Strong-limbed,  long-winded  lads  like  them  —  whc 
could  have  "  swarmed  "  in  two  minutes  to  the  main  truck  of 
a  man-o'-war  —  needed  no  such  indulgence  as  that.  In- 
stead of  one  hundred  feet  of  sloping  sand,  any  one  of  them 
could  have  scaled  Snowdon  without  stopping  to  look  back. 

Their  halt  had  been  made  from  a  different  motive.  It 
was  sudden  and  simultaneous,  —  all  three  having  stopped  at 
the  same  time,  and  without  any  previous  interchange  of  speech. 
The  same  cause  had  brought  them  to  that  abrupt  cessation 
in  their  climbing ;  and  as  they  stood  side  by  side,  aligned 
upon  one  another,  the  eyes  of  all  three  were  turned  on  the 
same  object. 

It  was  an  animal,  —  a  quadruped  It  could  not  be  any- 
thing else  if  belonging  to  a  sublunary  world ;  and  to  this  it 
appeared  to  belong.  A  strange  creature  notwithstanding ; 
and  one  which  none  of  the  three  remembered  to  have  met 
before.  The  remembrance  of  something  like  it  flitted  across 
their  brains,  seen  upon  the  shelves  of  a  museum ;  but  not 
enough  of  resemblance  to  give  a  clue  for  its  identification. 

The  quadruped  in  question  was  not  bigger  than  a  "  San 
Bernard,"  a  "  Newfoundland,"  or  a  mastiff :  but  seen  as  it 
was,  it  loomed  larger  than  any  of  the  three.  Like  these 
creatures,  it  was  canine  in  shape  —  lupine  we  should  rather 
say  —  but  of  an  exceedingly  grotesque  and  ungainly  figure. 
A  huge  square  head  seemed  set  without  neck  upon  its 
shoulders ;  while  its  fore  limb?  —  out  of  all  proportion 
longer  than  the  hind  ones  —  gave  to  the  spinal  column  a 
sharp  downward  slant  towards  the  tail.  The  latter  append- 
age, short  and  "bunchy,"  ended  abruptly,  as  if  either  cut 


94  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

or  "  driven  in,"  —  adding  to  the  uncouth  appearance  of  the 
animal.  A  stiff  hedge  of  hard  bristles  upon  the  back  con- 
tinued its  chevaux  de  /rise  along  the  short,  thick  neelc,  till  it 
ended  between  two  erect  tufted  ears.  Such  was  the  shape 
of  the  beast  that  had  suddenly  presented  itself  to  the  eyes  of 
our  adventurers. 

They  had  a  good  opportunity  of  observing  its  outlines.  It 
was  on  the  ridge  towards  the  crest  of  which  they  were  ad- 
vancing. The  moon  was  shining  beyond.  Every  turn  of 
its  head  or  body  —  every  motion  made  by  its  liml)s  —  was 
conspicuously  rev-alcd  agamst  the  luminous  background  of 
the  sky. 

It  was  neither  standing,  nor  at  rest  in  any  way.  Head, 
limbs,  and  body  were  all  in  motion,  —  constantly  changing, 
not  only  their  relative  attitudes  to  one  another,  but  their 
absolute  situation  in  regard  to  surrounding  objects. 

And  yet  the  change  was  anything  but  arbitrary.  The 
relative  movements  made  by  the  members  of  the  animal's 
body,  as  well  as  the  absolute  alterations  of  position,  were 
all  in  obedience  to  strictly  natural  laws,  —  all  repetitions  of 
the  same  manoeuvre,  worked  with  a  monotony  that  seemed 
mechanical. 

The  creature  was  pacing  to  and  fro,  like  a  well-trained 
gentry,  —  its  "round"  being  the  curved  crest  of  the  sand- 
rido-e,  from  which  it  did  not  deviate  to  the  Hcence  of  an 
inch.  Backward  and  forward  did  it  traverse  the  saddle  in 
a  longitudinal  direction,  —  now  poised  upon  the  pommel,  — 
now  sinking  downward  in'io  the  seat,  and  then  rising  to  the 
level  of  the  coup,  —  now  turning  in  the  opposite  direction, 
and  retracing  in  long,  uncouth  strides,  the  path  over  which 
it  appeared  to  have  been  passing  since  the  earliest  hour  of 
its  existence! 

Independent  of  the  surprise  which  the  ]>resence  of  thia 
animal  had  created,  there  was  something  in  its  aspect  calcu 
lated  to  cause  terror.     Perhaps,  had  the  mids  known  what 


A  QUEER   QUADRUPED.  9( 

kind  of  creature  it  was,  or  been  in  any  way  apprized  of  iti 
real  character,  they  would  have  paid  less  regard  to  its  pres- 
ence. Certainly  not  so  much  as  tliey  did :  for,  instead  of 
advancing  upon  it,  and  making  their  way  over  the  crest  of 
the  ridge,  they  stopped  in  their  track,  and  held  a  whispered 
consultation  as  to  what  they  should  do. 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  barrier  before  them  present- 
ed a  formidable  appearance.  A  brute,  it  appeared  as  big  as 
a  bull  —  for  magnified  by  the  moonlight,  and  perhaps  a  little 
by  the  fears  of  those  who  looked  upon  it,  the  quadruped  was 
quite  qnadrvpled  in  size.  Disputing  their  passage  too  ;  for 
its  movements  made  it  manifest  that  such  was  its  design. 
Backwards  and  forwards,  up  and  down  that  curving  crest, 
did  it  glide,  with  a  nervous  quickness,  that  hindered  any 
hope  of  being  able  to  rush  past  it  —  either  before  or  behind 
—  its  own  crest  all  the  while  erected,  like  that  of  the  dragon 
subdued  by  St.  George. 

With  all  his  English  "  pluck  "  —  even  stunulated  by  this 
resemblance  to  the  national  knight  —  Harry  Blount  felt  shy 
to  approach  that  creatui'e  that  challenged  the  passage  of 
himself  and  his  companions. 

Had  there  been  no  danger  en  arriere,  perhaps  our  adven- 
turers would  have  turned  back  into  the  valley,  and  left  the 
ugly  quadruped  master  of  the  pass. 

As  it  was,  a  different  resolve  was  arrived  at  —  necessity 
being  the  dictator. 

The  three  midshipmen,  drawing  their  dirks,  advanced  in 
line  of  battle  up  the  slope.  The  Devil  himself  could  scarce 
withstand  such  an  assault.  England,  Scotland,  Ireland, 
abreast  —  tres  jnncti  in  uno  —  united  in  thought,  aim,  and 
action  —  was  there  aught  upon  earth  —  biped,  quadi-uped, 
or  mille-pied  —  that  must  not  yield  to  the  charge  ? 

If  there  was,  it  was  not  that  animal  oscillating  along  the 
saddle  of  sand,  progressing  from  pammel  to  cantle,  like  tbfl 
pendulum  of  a  clock. 


B6  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Wliether  natural  or  supernatural,  long  before  our  adv^eo 
turers  got  near  enough  to  decide,  the  creature,  to  use  a 
phrase  of  very  modern  mention,  "  skedaddled,"  leaving  thena 
free  —  so  far  as  it  was  concerned  —  to  continue  their  retreat 
unmolested. 

It  did  not  depart,  however,  until  after  delivering  a  salute, 
that  left  our  adventurers  in  greater  doubt  than  ever  of  its 
true  character.  They  had  been  debating  among  themselves 
whether  it  was  a  thing  of  the  earth,  of  time,  or  somethmg 
that  belonged  to  eternity.  They  had  seen  it  under  a  fair 
light,  and  could  not  decide.  But  now  that  they  had  heard 
it,  —  had  listened  to  a  strain  of  loud  cachinnation,  —  scarce 
mocking  the  laughter  of  the  maniac,  —  there  was  no  escap- 
ing from  the  conclusion  that  what  they  had  seen  was  either 
Satan  himself,  or  one  of  his  Ethiopian  satellites ! 


CHAPTER    XXVIIT. 

THE   HUE   AND    CRY. 

AS  the  strange  creature  that  had  threatened  to  dispute 
their  passage  was  no  longer  in  sight,  and  seemed, 
moreover,  to  have  gone  clear  away,  the  three  mids  ceased  to 
think  any  more  of  it,  —  their  minds  being  given  to  making 
their  way  over  the  ridge  without  being  seen  by  the  occu- 
pants of  the  encampment. 

Having  returned  their  dirks  to  the  sheath,  they  continued 
to  advance  towards  the  crest  of  the  transverse  Band-spar,  as 
cautiously  as  at  starting. 

It  is  possible  they  might  have  suceeeded  in  crossing,  with- 
out  being  perceived,  but  for  a  circumstance  of  wliich  they 
had  taken  too  little  heed.     Only  too  well  pleased  at  seeing 


THE  HUE  AND   CRY.  97 

die  strange  quadruped  make  its  retreat,  they  had  been  less 
affected  by  its  parting  salutation,  —  weird  and  wild  as  this 
had  sounded  in  their  ears.  But  they  had  not  thouglit  of  tha 
effects  wliich  the  same  sakite  had  produced  upon  the  people 
of  the  Arab  camp,  causing  all  of  them,  as  it  did,  to  turn 
their  eyes  in  the  direction  whence  it  was  heard.  To  them 
there  was  no  mystery  in  that  screaming  cachinnation.  Un- 
earthly as  it  had  echoed  m  the  ears  of  the  three  mids,  it  fell 
with  a  perfectly  natural  tone  on  those  of  the  Arabs :  for  it 
was  but  one  of  the  well-known  voices  of  their  desert  home, 
recognized  by  them  as  the  cry  of  the  laughing  hyena. 

The  effect  produced  upon  the  encampment  was  twofold. 
The  children  straying  outside  the  tents,  —  like  young  chicks 
frightened  by  the  swooping  of  a  hawk,  —  ran  inward  ;  while 
their  mothers,  after  the  manner  of  so  many  old  hens,  rushed 
forth  to  take  them  under  their  protection.  The  proximity 
of  a  hungry  hyena,  —  more  especially  one  of  the  laughing 
species,  —  was  a  circumstance  to  cause  alarm.  All  the 
fierce  creature  required  was  a  chance  to  close  his  strong, 
vice-like  jaws  upon  the  limbs  of  one  of  those  juvenile  Ish- 
maelites,  and  that  would  be  the  last  his  mother  should  ever 
gee  of  him. 

Knowing  this,  the  screech  of  the  hyena  had  produced  a 
momentary  commotion  among  the  women  and  children  of 
the  encampment.  Neither  had  the  men  listened  to  it  un- 
moved. In  hopes  of  procuring  its  skin  for  house  or  tent 
furniture,  and  its  flesh  for  food,  —  for  these  hungry  wander- 
ers will  eat  anything,  —  several  had  seized  hold  of  their 
long  guns,  and  rushed  forth  from  among  the  tents. 

The  sound  had  guided  them  as  to  the  direction  in  whiclr 
ihey  should  go ;  and  as  they  ran  forward,  they  saw,  not  a 
hvena,  but  three  human  beings  just  mounting  upon  the  sum- 
-aiit  of  the  sand-ridge,  under  the  full  light  of  the  moon.  So 
conspicuously  did  the  latter  appear  upon  the  smooth  crest 
of  the  wreath,  that  there  was  no  longer  any  chance  of  con- 
5  O 


98  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

cealment.  Their  dark  blue  dresses,  the  yellow  buttons  on 
their  jackets,  and  the  bands  around  their  cajjs,  were  aU  dis- 
cernible. It  was  the  costume  of  the  sea,  not  of  the  Saara. 
The  Arab  wreckers  knew  it  at  a  glance  ;  and,  without  wait- 
ing to  give  a  second,  every  man  of  the  camp  sallied  off  in 
pursuit,  —  each,  as  he  started,  giving  utterance  to  an  ejacu- 
lation of  surprise  or  pleasure. 

Some  hurried  forward  afoot,  just  as  they  had  been  going 
out  to  hunt  the  hyena ;  others  climbed  upon  their  swift  cam- 
els ;  while  a  few,  who  owned  horees,  thinking  they  might  do 
better  with  them,  quickly  caparisoned  them,  and  came  g-al- 
loping  on  after  the  rest ;  all  three  sorts  of  pursuers,  —  foot- 
men, horsemen,  and  maherrymen,  —  seemingly  as  intent 
upon  a  contest  of  screaming,  as  upon  a  trial  of  speed ! 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  three  midshipmen  were,  by 
this  time,  fully  apprised  of  the  "  hue  and  cry  "  raised  after 
them.  It  reached  their  ears  just  as  they  arrived  upon  the 
summit  of  the  sand-ridge ;  and  any  doubt  they  might  have 
had  as  to  its  meaning,  was  at  once  determined,  when  they 
saw  the  Arabs  brandishing  their  arms,  and  rushing  out  like 
so  many  madmen  from  among  the  tents. 

They  stayed  to  see  no  more.  To  keep  their  ground  could 
only  end  in  their  being  captured  and  carried  prisoners  to  the 
encampment;  and  after  the  spectacle  they  had  just  \vit- 
nessed,  in  which  the  old  man-o'-war  s-man  had  played  such 
a  melancholy  part,  any  fate  appeared  preferable  to  that. 

With  some  such  fear  all  tliree  were  aifected ;  and  simul- 
taneou.sly  yielding  to  it,  they  turned  tlieir  backs  upon  the 
pursuit,  and  rushed  headlong  down  the  ravine,  up  which  they 
had  so  imprudently  ascejided. 


.   A  SUBAQUEOUS  ASi'LUM,  99 

CHAPTER    XXIX. 

A    SUBAQUEOUS   ASYLUM. 

AS  tie  gorge  was  of  no  great  length,  and  the  downward 
incline  in  their  favor,  they  were  not  long  in  getting  to 
its  bwer  end,  and  out  to  the  level  plain  that  formed  the  sea- 
beach. 

In  their  hurried  traverse  thither,  it  had  not  occurred  to 
them  to  inquire  for  what  purpose  they  were  running  towards 
the  sea?  There  could  be  no  chance  of  tlieir  escaping  in 
that  direction  ;  nor  did  there  appear  to  be  much  in  any  other, 
afoot  as  they  were,  and  pursued  by  mounted  men.  The 
night  was  too  clear  to  ofier  any  opportunity  of  hiding  diem- 
Belves,  especially  in  a  country  where  there  was  neither 
"  brake,  brush,  nor  scaur"  to  conceal  them.  Go  which  way 
they  would,  or  crouch  wherever  they  might,  they  would  be  al- 
most certain  of  being  discovered  by  their  lynx-eyed  enemies. 

There  was  but  one  way  in  which  they  nvigld  have  stood  a 
chance  of  getting  clear,  at  least  for  a  time.  This  was  to 
have  turned  aside  among  the  sand  ridges,  and  by  keepmg 
along  some  of  the  lateral  hollows,  double  back  upon  their 
pursuers.  There  were  several  such  side  hollows ;  for  on  go- 
ing up  the  main  ravine  they  had  observed  them,  and  also  in 
coming  down  ;  but  in  their  hurry  to  put  space  between  them- 
selves and  their  pursuers,  they  had  overlooked  this  chance 
of  concealment. 

At  best  it  was  but  slim,  though  it  was  the  only  one  that 
offered.  It  only  presented  itself  when  it  was  too  late  for 
them  to  take  advantage  of  it,  —  only  after  they  had  got 
clear  out  of  the  gully  and  stood  upon  the  open  level  of  the 
tsea-beach,  within  less  than  two  hundred  yards  of  the  sea  it- 
self. There  they  halted,  partly  to  recover  breath  and  partly 
tc  hold  counsel  us  to  their  further  course. 


100  Tro<  BOY   SLAVES. 

There  was  not  much  time  for  either ;  and  a3  the  thre« 
stood  in  a  triangle  with  their  faces  turned  towards  eacn  other, 
the  moonliglt  shone  upon  lips  and  cheeks  blanched  with 
dismay. 

It  now  occurred  to  them  for  the  first  time,  and  simultane- 
ously, that  there  was  no  hope  of  their  escaping,  either  by 
flight  or  concealment. 

They  were  already  some  distance  out  upon  the  open  plain, 
as  cons[)icuous  upon  its  surface  of  white  sand  as  would  have 
been  three  black  crows  in  the  middle  of  a  field  six  inches 
under  snow. 

They  saw  that  they  had  made  a  mistake.  They  should 
have  stayed  among  the  sand-ridges  and  sought  shelter  in 
some  of  the  deep  gullies  that  divided  them.  They  bethought 
them  of  going  back ;  but  a  moment's  deliberation  Wiis  suf- 
ficient to  convince  them  that  this  was  no  longer  practicable. 
There  would  not  be  time,  scarce  even  to  re-enter  the  ravine, 
befoi'e  their  pursuers  would  be  upon  them. 

It  was  an  instinct  that  had  caused  them  to  rush  towards 
the  sea  —  their  habitual  home,  for  which  they  had  thought- 
lessly sped  —  notwithstanding  their  late  rude  ejection  from 
it.  Now  that  they  stood  upon  its  shore,  as  if  appealing  to 
it  for  protection,  it  seemed  still  desirous  of  spurning  them 
from  its  bosom,  and  leaving  them  without  mercy  to  their 
merciless  enemies ! 

A  line  of  breakers  trended  parallel  to  the  water's  edge  — 
scarce  a  cable's  length  from  the  shore,  and  not  two  hundred 
yards  from  the  spot  where  they  had  come  to  a  pause. 

They  were  not  very  formidable  breakers  —  only  the  tide 
rolling  over  a  sand-bar,  or  a  tiny  reef  of  rocks.  It  was  at 
host  but  a  big  surf,  crested  with  occasional  flakes  of  ibam, 
and  sweeping  in  successive  swells  against  the  smootli  beacli. 

What  was  there  in  all  this  to  fix  the  attention  of  th« 
fugitives — for  it  had?  The  seething  flood  seemed  only  to 
hiss  at  their  despair  I 


A  SUBAQUEOUS  ASYLUM.  101 

And  yet  almost  on  the  instant  after  suspending  theii 
flight,  they  had  turned  their  faces  towards  it  —  as  if  some 
object  of  interest  had  suddenly  shown  itself  m  the  surf. 
Object  there  was  none  —  nothing  but  the  flakes  of  white 
froth  and  the  black  viti-eous  waves  over  which  it  was  dano- 

VDg. 

It  was  not  an  object,  but  a  purpose  that  was  engaging 
their  attention  —  a  resolve  that  had  suddenly  sprung  up 
within  their  minds  —  almost  as  suddenly  to  bo  carried  into 
execution.  After  all,  their  old  home  was  not  to  prove  so 
inhospitable.  It  would  provide  them  with  a  place  of  con- 
cealment ! 

The  thought  occurred  to  all  three  almost  at  the  same  in- 
stant of  time ;  though  Terence  was  the  first  to  give  speech 
to  it. 

"  By  Saint  Patrick ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  let 's  take  to  the 
wather !  Them  breakers  '11  give  us  a  good  hiding-place. 
I  've  hid  before  now  in  that  same  way,  when  taking  a  moon- 
light bath  on  the  coast  of  owld  Galway.  I  did  it  to  scare 
my  schoolfellows  —  by  making  believe  I  was  drowned. 
What  say  ye  to  our  trying  it  ?  " 

His  companions  made  no  reply.  They  had  scarce  even 
waited  for  the  wmd-up  of  his  harangue.  Both  had  equally 
perceived  the  feasibility  of  the  scheme ;  and  yielding  to  a 
like  impulse,  all  tliree  started  into  a  fresh  run,  with  their 
faces  turned  towards  the  sea. 

In  less  than  a  score  of  seconds,  they  had  crossed  the  strip 
of  strand;  and  in  a  similarly  short  space  of  time  were 
pluno-ing  —  thigh  deep  —  through  the  water;  still  striding 
impetuously  onward,  as  if  they  intended  to  wade  across  tha 
Atlantic  1 

A  few  more  Si^rides,  however,  brought  them  to  a  stand  — 
just  inside  the  line  of  breakers  —  where  the  seething  wat- 
ers, settling  down  into  a  state  of  comparative  tranquillity, 
presented  a  surface  variegated  with  large  clouts  of  floating 
Iroth. 


102  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Amidst  this  mottling  of  white  antl  black,  even  under  tli« 
Dnglit  moonlight,  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  the  keenest 
eye  to  have  detected  the  head  of  a  human  being  —  sup- 
posing the  body  to  have  been  kept  carefully  submerged ; 
and  under  this  confidence,  the  mids  were  not  slow  in  sub- 
merging themselves. 

Ducking  down,  till  their  chins  touched  the  water,  all  three 
were  soon  as  completely  out  of  sight  —  to  any  eye  looking 
from  the  shore  —  as  if  Neptune,  pitying  their  forlorn  con- 
dition, had  stretched  forth  his  trident  with  a  bunch  of  sea- 
weed upon  its  prongs,  to  screen  and  protect  them. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

THE     PURSUERS    NONPLUSSED. 

NOT  a  second  too  soon  had  they  succeeded  in  making 
good  their  entry  into  this  subaqueous  asylum.  Scarce 
had  their  chins  come  in  contact  with  the  water,  when  the 
voices  of  men  —  accompanied  by  the  baying  of  dogs,  the 
snorting  of  maherries,  and  the  neighing  of  horses  —  were 
heard  within  the  gorge,  from  which  they  had  just  issued ; 
and  in  a  few  minutes  after  a  straggling  crowd,  composed  of 
these  various  creatures,  came  rushing  out  of  the  ravine.  Of 
men,  afoot  and  on  horseback,  twenty  or  more  were  seen 
pouring  forth ;  all,  apparently,  in  hot  haste,  as  if  eager  to 
be  in  at  tlie  death  of  some  object  pursued,  —  that  could  not 
possibly  escape  capture. 

Once  outside  the  jaws  of  the  gully,  tlie  irregular  cavalcade 
advanced  scatteringly  over  the  plair  Only  for  a  short  dis- 
tance, however ;  for,  as  if  by  a  common  understanding 
rather  than  in  obedience  to  any  command,  all  came  to  9 
halt. 


THE  PURSUERS  NONPLUSSED.  103 

A  silence  followed  this  halt,  —  apparently  proceedihg  from 
astonit^hment.  It  was  general,  —  it  might  be  said  universal, 
—  for  even  f  :e  animals  appeared  to  partake  of  it !  At  all 
events,  some  seconds  transpired  during  which  the  only  sound 
heard  was  the  sighing  of  the  sea,  and  the  only  motion  to  be 
observed  was  the  sinking  and  swelling  of  the  waves. 

The  Saiiran  rovers  on  foot,  —  as  well  as  those  that  were 
mounted,  —  their  horses,  dogs,  and  camels,  as  they  stood 
upon  that  smooth  plain,  seemed  to  have  been  suddenly 
transformed  into  stone,  and  set  like  so  many  sphinxes  in 
the  sand. 

In  truth  it  was  surprise  that  had  so  transfixed  them, — • 
the  men,  at  least ;  and  their  well-trained  animals  were  only 
acting  in  obedience  to  a  habit  taught  them  by  their  masters, 
who,  in  the  pursuit  of  their  predatory  life,  can  cause  these 
creatures  to  be  both  silent  and  still,  whenever  the  occasion 
requires  it. 

Foi  their  surprise,  —  which  this  exhibition  of  it  proved 
to  be  extreme,  —  the  Sons  of  the  Desert  had  sufficient  rea- 
son. They  had  seen  the  three  midshipmen  on  the  crest  of 
the  sand-ridge ;  had  even  noted  tlie  peculiar  garb  that  be- 
decked their  bodies,  —  ail  this  beyond  doubt.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  haste  with  which  they  had  entered  on  the  pursuit, 
they  had  not  continued  it  either  in  a  reckless  or  improvident 
manner.  Skilled  in  the  ways  of  the  wilderness,  — ■  cautious 
as  cat-,  —  they  had  continued  the  chase ;  those  in  the  lead 
from  time  to  time  assuring  themselves  that  the  game  was  still 
before  them.  This  they  had  done  by  glancing  occasionally 
to  the  ground,  where  shoe-tracks  in  the  soft  sand  —  three 
sets  of  them  —  leading  to  and  fro,  were  sufficient  evidence 
that  the  three  mids  must  have  gone  back  to  the  emhouchurt 
ol  the  ravine,  and  thither  emerged  upon  the  open  sea-beach. 
Where  were  they  now'i 

Looking  up  the  smooth  strand  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  and  down  it  to  a  like  distance,  there  was  no  placa 


104  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

where  a  crab  could  have  screened  itself;  and  these  Saiiran 
wreckers,  well  acquainted  with  the  coast,  knew  that  in  neither 
direction  was  there  any  other  ravine  or  gully  into  which  the 
fugitives  could  have  retreated. 

No  v/ouder,  then,  that  the  pursuers  wondered,  even  to 
speechlessness. 

Their  silence  was  of  short  duration,  though  it  was  suc- 
ceeded only  by  cries, expressing  their  great  surprise,  among 
which  might  have  been  distinguished  their  usual  iuvoaitions 
to  Allah  and  the  Prophet.  It  was  evident  that  a  supersti- 
tious feeling  had  arisen  in  their  minds,  not  without  its  usual 
accompaniment  of  fear ;  and  although  they  no  longer  kept 
their  places,  the  movement  now  observable  among  them  was 
that  they  gathered  closer  together,  and  appeared  to  enter 
upon  a  grave  consultation. 

This  was  terminated  by  some  of  them  once  more  proceed- 
ing to  the  embouchure  of  the  ravine,  and  betaking  themselves 
to  a  fresh  scrutiny  of  the  tracks  made  by  the  shoes  of  the 
midshipmen;  while  the  rest  sat  silently  upon  their  horses 
and  maherries  awaiting  the  result. 

The  foot-marks  of  the  three  raids  were  still  easily  tracea- 
ble—  even  on  the  ground  already  trampled  by  the  Arabs, 
their  horses,  and  maherries.  The  "cloots"  of  a  camel  would 
not  have  been  more  conspicuous  in  the  mud  of  an  English 
road,  than  were  the  shoe-prints  of  the  three  young  seamen 
in  the  sands  of  the  Saara.  The  Arab  trackers  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  making  them  out ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  had  traced 
them  from  the  mouth  of  the  gorge,  almost  in  a  direct  line  to 
the  sea.  There,  however,  there  was  a  breadth  of  wet  sea- 
beach —  where  the  springy  sand  instantly  obliterated  any 
foot-mark  that  might  be  made  upon  it  —  and  tliere  the  tractB 
ended. 

But  why  should  they  have  extended  farthei  ?  No  one 
could  have  gone  beyond  that  point,  without  either  walking 
straight  into  the  water,  or  keeping  along  the  strip  of  sea 
beach,  upwarda  or  downwards. 


A  DOUBLE  PREDICAMENT.  105 

The  fugitives  could  not  have  escaped  in  either  way  — ■  un- 
ess  they  had  taken  to  the  water,  and  committed  suicide  by 
drowning  themselves !  Up  the  coast,  or  down  it,  they  would 
have  been  seen  to  a  certainty. 

Their  pursuers,  clustering  around  the  place  where  the 
tracks  terminated,  were  no  wiser  than  ever.  Some  of  there 
were  ready  to  believe  that  drowning  had  been  the  fate  of 
the  castaways  upon  their  coast,  and  so  stated  it  to  tlieir  com 
panions.  But  they  spoke  only  conjectures,  and  in  tones  that 
told  them,  like  the  rest,  to  be  under  the  influence  of  some 
superstitious  fear.  Despite  their  confidence  in  the  protection 
of  their  boasted  Prophet,  they  felt  a  natural  dread  of  that 
wilderness  of  waters,  less  known  to  them  than  the  wilder 
ness  of  sand. 

Ere  long  they  withdrew  from  its  presence,  and  betook ' 
themselves  back  to  their  encampment,  under  a  half  belief 
that  the  three  individuals  seen  and  pur.sued  had  either 
drowned  themselves  in  the  great  deep,  or  by  some  mysterious 
means  known  to  these  strange  men  of  the  sea,  had  escaped 
across  its  far-reachinof  waters! 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

A    DOUBLE    PREDICAMENT. 

SHORT  time  as  their  pursuers  had  stayed  upon  the  strand, 
it  seemed  an  age  to  the  submerged  midshipmen. 
On  first  placing  themselves  in  position,  they  had  chosen  a 
spot  where,  with  their  knees  resting  upon  the  bottom,  they 
could  just  hold  their  chins  above  water.  Tliis  would  enable 
them  to  hold  their  ground  without  anj  great  difficulty,  and 
for  some  dme  they  so  maintained  it. 
5* 


106  THE  BOY  SLA\^S. 

Soon,  however,  they  began  to  perceive  that  the  water  was 
rising  around  them,  —  a  circumstance  easily  explained  by 
the  influx  of  the  tide.  The  rise  was  slow  and  gradual :  but, 
for  all  that,  they  saw  that  should  they  require  to  remain  in 
their  place  of  concealment  for  any  length  of  time,  drowning 
must  be  their  inevitable  destiny. 

A  means  of  avoiding  this  soon  presented  itself.  Insida 
the  line  of  breakers,  the  water  slioaled  gradually  towards 
the  shore.  By  advancing  in  this  direction  they  could  still 
keep  to  the  same  depth.  This  course  they  adopted  —  glid- 
ing cautiously  forward  upon  their  knees,  whenever  the  tide 
admonished  them  to  repeat  the  manoeuvre. 

This  state  of  affairs  would  have  been  satisfactory  enough, 
but  for  a  circumstance  that,  every  moment,  was  making  it- 
self more  apparent.  At  each  move  they  were  not  only  ap- 
proaching nearer  to  their  enemies,  scattered  along  the 
strand ;  but  as  they  receded  fi'om  the  line  of  the  breakers, 
the  water  became  comparatively  tranquil,  and  its  smooth 
surface,  less  confused  by  the  masses  of  floating  foam,  was 
more  likely  to  betray  them  to  the  spectators  on  the  shore. 

To  avoid  this  catastrophe  —  which  would  have  been  fatal 
—  they  moved  shoreward,  only  when  it  became  absolutely 
necessary  to  do  so,  often  permitting  the  tidal  waves  to  sweep 
completely  over  the  crown  of  their  heads,  and  several  times 
tlireaten  suiFocation. 

Under  circumstances  so  trying,  so  apparently  hopeless,  most 
lads  —  aye,  most  men  —  would  have  submitted  to  despair, 
and  surrendered  themselves  to  a  fate  apparently  unavoidable. 
i5ut  with  that  true  British  pluck  —  combining  the  tenacity 
of  the  Scotch  terrier,  tlie  English  bulldog,  and  the  Irish 
etaghound  —  the  three  youthful  representatives  of  the  triple 
kingdom  determined  to  hold  on. 

And  they  held  on,  with  the  waves  washing  against  their 
cheeks  —  and  at  intervals  quite  over  their  heads  —  with  the 
briny  fluid  rushing  into  their  ears  and  up  tlieir  nostrils,  until 


A  DOUBLE  PREDICAMENT.  107 

one  after  another  began  to  believe,  that  there  would  be  no 
alternative  between  surrendering  to  tlie  cruel  sea,  or  to  ,hfl 
not  less  cruel  sons  of  the  Saiira. 

As  they  v:ere  close  together,  they  could  hold  council,  — 
conversing  all  the  time  in  sometliing  louder  than  a  whisper. 
There  was  no  risk  of  their  being  overheard.  Though  scarce  a 
cable's  length  from  the  shore,  the  hoarse  soughing  of  the 
9urf  would  have  drowned  the  sound  of  their  voices,  even  if 
uttered  in  a  much  louder  tone  ;  but  being  skilled  in  the 
acoustics  of  the  ocean,  they  exchanged  their  thoughts  with 
due  caution  ;  and  while  encouraging  one  another  to  remain 
firm,  they  speculated  freely  upon  the  chances  of  escaping 
from  their  perilous  predicament. 

While  thus  occupied,  2.  predicament  of  an  equally  perilous, 
and  still  more  singular  kind,  was  in  store  for  them.  They 
had  been  hitherto  advancing  towards  the  water's  edge,  —  in 
regular  progression  with  the  influx  of  the  tide,  —  all  the 
while  upon  their  knees.  This,  as  already  stated,  had  en- 
abled them  to  sustain  themselves  steadily,  without  showing 
anything  more  than  three  quarters  of  the  head  above  the 
surface. 

All  at  once,  however,  the  water  appeared  to  deepen  ;  and 
by  going  upon  their  knees  they  could  no  longer  surmount 
tlie  waves,  —  even  with  tlieir  eyes.  By  moving  on  towards 
the  beach,  tliey  might  again  get  into  shallow  water  ;  but  just 
at  this  point  the  commotion  caused  by  the  breakers  came  to 
a  termination,  and  the  flakes  of  froth,  with  the  surround- 
ing spray  of  bubbles,  here  bursting,  one  after  another,  left 
the  surface  of  the  sea  to  its  restored  tranquillity.  Any- 
thing beyond  —  a  cork,  or  the  tiniest  waif  of  seaweed 
—  could  scarce  fail  to  be  seen  from  the  strand,  —  though 
the  latter  was  itself  constantly  receding  as  the  tide  flowed 
inward, 

Tht,  submerged  middies  were  now  in  a  dilemma  they  had 
not  dreamed* of.     By  holding  their  ground,  they  could  noi 


108  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

fail  to  "  go  nnder."     By  advancing  further,  they  would  na 

the  risk  of  being  discovered  to  the  enemy. 

Their  first  movement  was  to  get  up  from  their  knees,  and 
raije  their  heads  above  water  by  standing  in  a  crouched  atti- 
tude on  their  feet.  This  they  had  done  before,  —  more  than 
once,  —  returning  to  the  posture  of  supplication  only  when 
too  tired  to  sustain  themselves. 

This  they  attempted  again,  and  determined  to  continue  it 
to  the  last  moment,  —  in  view  of  the  danger  of  approaching 
nearer  to  the  enemy. 

To  their  consternation  they  now  found  it  would  no  longer 
avail  them.  Scarce  had  they  risen  erect  before  discovering 
that  even  in  this  position  they  were  immersed  to  the  chin, 
and  after  plunging  a  pace  or  two  forward,  they  were  still 
sinking  deepei'.  They  could  feel  that  their  feet  were  not 
resting  on  firm  bottom,  but  constently  going  down. 

"A  quicksand!"  was  the  apprehension  that  rushed  simul- 
taneously into  the  minds  of  all  three  ! 

Fortunately  for  them,  the  Arabs  at  that  moment,  yielding 
to  their  fatalist  fears,  had  faced  away  from  the  shore  ;  else 
the  plunging  and  sphvshing  made  by  tliem  in  their  violent 
endeavors  to  escape  from  the  quicksand,  could  not  have 
failed  to  dissipate  tliese  superstitions,  and  cause  their  pnr- 
Buers  to  complete  the  capture  they  had  so  childlessly  re- 
linquished. 

As  it  chanced,  the  Saiiran  wreckers  saw  nothing  of  all 
this;  and  as  the  splasliing  sounds,  whiih  otherwise  might 
have  reached  them,  were  drowned  by  the  louder  sotiyh  of 
the  sea,  they  returned  toward  their  encampment  in  a  stat« 
of  perplexity  bordering  upon  bewild«irmeut ! 


ONCE  MORE  THE  MOCKING  LAUGH.  103 

CHAPTER    XXXII. 

ONCE  MOKE  THE  MOCKING  LAUGH. 

AFTER  a  good  deal  of  scrambling  and  struggling,  oui 
adventurers  succeeded  in  getting  clear  of  the  quicksand, 
and  planting  their  feet  u^wn  firmer  bottom,  —  a  little  nearer 
to  the  water's  edge.  Thougli  at  this  point  more  exposed 
than  they  wished  to  be,  they  concealed  themselves  as  well 
as  they  could,  holding  their  faces  under  the  water  up  to  the 
eyes. 

Though  believing  that  their  enemies  were  gone  for  good, 
they  dared  not  as  yet  wade  out  upon  the  beach.  The  re- 
tiring pursuers  would  naturally  be  lookmg  back ;  and  as  the 
moon  was  still  shining  clearly  as  ever,  they  might  be  seen 
from  a  great  distance. 

They  feel  that  they  would  not  be  safe  in  leaving  their 
place  of  concealment  until  the  horde  had  recrossed  the  ridge, 
and  descended  once  more  into  the  oasis  that  contained  their 
encampment. 

Making  a  rough  calculation  as  to  the  time  it  would  take 
for  the  return  journey,  —  and  allowing  a  considerable  mar- 
gin against  the  eventuality  of  any  unforeseen  delay,  —  the 
mids  remained  in  their  subaqueous  retreat,  without  any  mOf 
terial  change  of  position. 

When  at  length  it  appeared  to  them  that  the  "  coast  was 
clear,"  they  rose  to  their  feet,  and  commenced  wading  tow- 
ards the  strand. 

Tliough  no  longer  believing  themselves  observed,  they 
proceeded  silently  and  with  caution,  —  the  only  noise  made 
among  them  being  the  chattering  of  their  teeth,  which  were 
going  like  three  complete  sets  of  castanets. 

This  they  could  not  help.  The  night  breeze  playing  upon 
the  saturated  garments,  —  that  clung  coldly  around    theii 


110  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

bodies,  —  chilliil  them  to  the  very  bones  ;  and  not  only  theii 
teeth,  but  their  knees  knocked  together,  as  they  staggered 
towards  the  beach. 

Just  before  reacliing  it,  an  incident  arose  that  filled  thena 
with  fresh  forebodings.  The  strange  beast  that  had  threat- 
ened to  intercept  their  retreat  over  the  ridge,  once  more  ap- 
peared before  their  eyes.  It  was  either  the  same,  or  one  of 
the  same  kind,  —  equally  ugly,  and  to  all  appearance,  equal- 
ly determined  to  dispute  their  passage. 

It  was  now  patrolling  the  strand  close  by  the  water's 
edge,  —  going  backwards  and  forwards,  precisely  as  it  had 
done  along  the  saddle-shaped  sand  wreath,  —  all  the  while 
keeping  its  hideous  fiice  turned  towards  them.  With  the 
moon  behind  their  backs,  they  had  a  better  view  of  it  than 
before ;  but  this,  though  enabling  them  to  perceive  that  it 
was  some  strange  quadruped,  did  not  in  any  way  improve 
their  opinion  of  it.  They  could  see  that  it  was  covered  with 
a  coat  of  long  shaggy  hair,  of  a  brindled  brown  color ;  and 
that  from  a  pair  of  large  orbs,  set  obliquely  in  its  head, 
gleamed  forth  a  fierce,  sullen  light. 

How  it  had  come  there  they  knew  not ;  but  there  it  was. 
Judging  from  the  experience  of  their  former  encounter  with 
it  they  presumed  it  would  again  retreat  at  their  approach ; 
and,  once  more  drawing  their  dirks,  they  advanced  boldly 
towards  it. 

They  were  not  deceived.  Long  before  they  were  near, 
the  uncouth  creature  turned  tail ;  and,  again  giviug  utter- 
ance to  its  unearthly  cry,  scampered  off  towards  the  ravine, 
—  in  whose  shadowy  depths  it  soon  disappeared  from  their 
view. 

Supposing  they  had  nothing  further  to  fear,  our  adven- 
turers stepped  out  upon  the  strand,  and  commenced  eonsul- 
tatiou  as  to  their  future  course. 

To  keep  on  down  the  coast  and  get  as  far  as  possible  from 
the  Ai'ab  encampment,  —  was  the  thought  of  all  three ;  an<i 


ONCE  MORE  THE  MOCKING  LAUGH.  Ill 

as  they  were  unanimous  in  this,  scarce  a  moment  was  wasted 
in  coming  to  a  determination.  Once  resolved,  they  faced 
eouthwai  d  ;  and  started  off  as  briskly  as  their  shivering 
frames  and  saturated  garments  would  allow  them. 

There  was  not  much  to  cheer  tliem  on  their  way,  —  only 
the  thought  that  they  had  so  adroitly  extricated  themselves 
from  a  dread  danger.  But  even  this  proved  only  a  fanciful 
consolation  ;  for  scarce  had  they  made  a  score  of  steps  along 
the  strand,  when  they  were  brought  to  a  sudden  halt,  by 
hearing  a  noise  that  appeared  to  proceed  from  the  ravine 
behind  them. 

It  was  a  slight  noise,  something  like  a  snort,  apparently 
made  by  some  animal ;  and,  for  the  moment,  they  supposed 
it  to  come  from  the  ugly  quadruped  that,  after  saluting  them, 
had  retreated  up  the  goi-ge. 

On  turning  their  eyes  in  that  direction,  they  at  once  saw 
that  they  were  mistaken.  A  quadruped  had  produced  the 
noise ;  but  one  of  a  very  different  kind  from  the  hairy  brute 
with  which  they  had  parted.  Just  emerging  from  the  shad- 
ow of  the  sand-hills,  they  perceived  a  huge  creature,  whose 
uncouth  shape  proclaimed  it  to  be  a  camel. 

The  sight  filled  them  with  consternation.  Not  that  it  was 
a  camel ;  but  because,  at  the  same  time,  they  discovered  that 
there  was  a  man  upon  its  back,  who,  brandishing  a  long 
weapon,  was  urging  the  animal  towards  tliem. 

The  three  midsliipmen  made  no  effort  to  continue  the 
journey  thus  unexpectedly  interrupted.  They  saw  that  any 
attempt  to  escape  from  such  a  fost-going  creature  would  be 
idle.  Encumbered  as  they  were  with  their  wet  garments, 
they  could  not  have  distanced  a  lame  duck  ;  and,  resigning 
themselves  to  the  chances  of  destiny,  they  st^od  awaiting  the 
encounter. 


112  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER    XXXIIL 

A    CUNNING    SHEIK. 

WKEN  the  camel  and  its  rider  first  loomed  in  sight, 
—  indistinctly  seen  under  the  shadow  of  the  sanQ 
dunes,  —  our  adventurers  had  conceived  a  faint  hope  that  it 
might  be  Sailor  Bill. 

It  was  possible,  they  thought,  that  the  old  man-o-war's- 
man,  left  unguarded  in  the  camp,  might  have  laid  hands  on 
the  maherry  that  had  made  away  with  him,  and  pressed  it 
into  service  to  assist  his  escape. 

The  hope  was  entertained  only  for  an  instant.  Bill  had 
encountered  no  such  golden  opportunity ;  but  was  still  a 
prisoner  in  the  tent  of  the  black  sheik,  surrounded  by  his 
f  lire  wish  tormentors. 

It  was  the  maherry,  however,  that  was  seen  coming  back 
for  as  it  came  near  (he  three  middies  recognized  the  creature 
whose  intrusion  upon  their  slumbers  of  the  preceding  night 
had  been  the  means,  perhaps,  of  saving  their  lives. 

Instead  of  a  Jack  Tar  now  surmounting  its  high  hunch, 
they  saw  a  little  wizen-faced  individual  with  sharp  angular 
features,  and  a  skin  of  yellowish  hue  puckered  like  parch- 
ment, lie  appeared  to  be  at  least  sixty  years  of  age ;  while 
his  costume,  equipments,  and  above  all,  a  certain  authorita- 
tive bearing,  bespoke  him  to  be  one  of  the  head  men  of  the 
horde. 

Such  in  truth  was  he,  —  one  of  the  two  sheiks,  —  the  old 
Arab  to  whom  the  straying  camel  belonged ;  and  who  waa 
now  mounted  on  his  own  maherry. 

His  presence  on  the  strand  at  this,  to  our  adventurers,  most 
inopportune  moment,  requires  explanation. 

He  had  been  on  tlie  beacli  before,  along  with  the  others  j 
»nd  had  gone  away  with  the  rest,      But  instead  of  contin« 


A   CUNNING  SHEIK.  115 

ning  on  to  the  encampment,  he  liac?  fallen  behind  in  the  ra- 
vine ;  where,  under  the  cover  of  some  rocks,  and  favored  by 
the  obscure  light  within  the  gorge,  he  had  succeeded  in  giv- 
ing his  comrades  the  slip.  There  he  had  remained,  —  per- 
mitting the  rest  to  recross  the  ridge,  and  return  to  the  tents. 

He  had  not  taken  these  steps  without  an  object.  Less 
superstitious  than  his  black  brother  sheik,  he  knew  there 
must  be  some  natural  explanation  of  the  disappearance  of 
the  three  castaways ;  and  he  had  determined  to  seek,  and  if 
possible,  to  discover  it. 

It  was  not  mere  curiosity  that  prompted  him  to  this  de- 
termination. He  had  been  all  out  of  sorts,  with  himself,  since 
losing  Sailor  Bill  in  the  game  of  helga  ;  and  he  was  desirous 
of  obtaining  some  compensation  for  his  ill-luck,  by  captur- 
ing the  three  castaways  who  had  so  mysteriously  disap- 
peared. 

As  to  their  having  either  drowned  themselves,  or  walked 
away  over  the  waste  of  waters,  the  old  sheik  had  seen  too 
many  Saiiran  summers  and  winters  to  give  credence  either 
to  one  tale  or  the  other.  He  knew  they  would  turn  up 
again  ;  and  though  he  was  not  quite  certain  of  the  where,  he 
more  than  half  suspected  it.  He  had  kept  his  suspicions  to 
himself,  —  not  imparting  them  even  to  his  own  special  fol- 
lowers. By  the  laws  of  the  Saiira,  a  slave  taken  by  any 
one  of  the  tribe  belongs  not  to  its  chief,  but  to  the  individ- 
ual who  makes  the  capture.  For  this  reason,  had  the  cun- 
ning sexagenarian  kept  his  thoughts  to  himself,  and  fallen 
solus  into  the  rear  of  the  returning  horde. 

It  might  bo  supposed  that  he  would  have  made  some  of 
his  following  privy  to  his  plan,  —  for  the  sake  of  having 
help  to  effect  such  a  wholesale  capture.  But  no.  His  ex- 
perience as  a  "  Barbary  wrecker "  had  taught  him  that 
there  would  be  no  danger,  —  no  hkelihcod  of  resistance,  — 
even  though  the  castaways  numberer^  thirty  instead  of 
three. 

H 


114  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

Armed  with  this  confidence,  and  his  long  gun,  he  had  re- 
turned down  the  ravine  ;  and  laid  in  wait  near  its  mouth,— 
at  a  point  where  he  commanded  a  view  of  the  coast  line,  to 
the  distance  of  more  than  a  mile  on  each  side  of  him. 

His  vigil  was  soon  rewarded :  by  seeing  the  three  indi- 
viduals for  whom  it  had  been  kept  step  forth  from  the  sea, 
—  as  if  emerging  from  its  profoundest  deptlis,  —  and  stand 
conspicuously  upon  the  beach. 

He  had  waited  for  nothing  more  ;  but,  giving  the  word  to 
his  maherry,  had  ridden  out  of  the  ravine,  and  was  now 
advancing  with  all  speed  upou  the  tracks  of  the  retreating 
mids. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

A   QUEER   ENCOUNTER. 

JN  about  threescore  seconds  from  the  time  he  was  first  seen 
pursuing  them,  tlie  old  sheik  was  up  to  the  spot  where 
our  adventurers  had  awaited  him. 

His  first  salute  appeared  to  be  some  words  of  menace  or 
command,  —  rendered  more  emphatic  by  a  series  of  gestures 
made  with  liis  long  gun  ;  which  was  successively  pointed  at 
the  heads  of  the  three.  Of  course,  none  of  them  understood 
what  was  said  ;  but  his  gesticulations  made  it  clear  enough, 
that  he  recpiired  their  company  to  the  Arab  encampment. 

Thc'ir  first  impulse  was  to  yield  obedience  to  this  com- 
mand ;  and  Terence  had  given  a  sign  of  assent,  which  was 
acquiesced  in  by  Colin.  Not  so  JNInster  Blount,  in  whom 
the  British  bull-dog  had  become  aroused  even  to  the  show- 
ing of  Ins  teeth. 

"  See  him  hanged  first !  "  cried  Harry.  "  What !  yield  up 
to  an  old  monkey  like  that,  and  w  alk  tam  fly  to  the  camp  at 


A   QUEER  ENCOUNTER.  Hi 

the  tail  of  his  camel  ?  No  sucli  tiling !  If  I  am  to  be- 
come  a  prisoner,  it  will  be  to  one  who  can  take  me." 

Terence,  rather  ashamed  at  having  shown  such  facile  sub- 
mission, now  rushed  to  the  opposite  extreme :  and  drawing 
his  dirk,  cried  out,  — 

"  By  Saint  Patrick  !  I  'ra  with  you,  Harry  !  Let 's  die, 
ratlier  than  yield  ourselves  prisoners  to  such  a  queer  old 
curmudgeon  ! " 

Colin,  before  declaring  himself,  glanced  sharply  around, 
—  carrying  his  eye  towards  the  embouchure  of  the  ravine,  to 
assure  himself  that  the  Arab  was  alone. 

As  there  was  nobody  else  in  sight,  —  and  no  sound  heard 
that  would  indicate  the  proximity  of  any  one,  —  it  was  prob- 
able enough  that  the  rider  of  the  maherry  was  the  only  ene- 
my opposed  to  them. 

"  The  deil  take  him  ! "  cried  Colin,  after  making  his  cau- 
tious reconnoissance.  "  If  he  take  us,  he  must  first  fight  for 
it.  Come  on,  old  skin-flint!  you'll  find  we're  true  British 
tars,  —  ready  for  a  score  of  such  as  you." 

The  three  youths  had  by  this  time  un='4eathed  their  shin 
ing  daggers,  and  thrown  themselves  iD*o  a  sort  of  triangle, 
the  maherry  in  their  midst. 

The  old  sheik  —  unprepared  f^r  <•  :,r)n.  a  reception  —  wae 
altogether  taken  aback  by  it ;  <iud  /'^r  some  seconds  sate  up« 
on  his  high  perch  seeminglj  irresolute  how  to  act. 

Suddenly  his  rage  appeared  to  rise  to  such  a  pitch,  that 
he  could  no  longer  command  his  actions  ;  and  bringing  the 
long  gun  to  his  shoulder,  he  levelled  it  at  Harry  Blount,  — 
who  had  been  foremost  in  braving  him. 

The  stream  of  smoke,  pouring  forth  from  its  muzzle,  foi  a 
moment  enveloped  the  form  of  the  youthful  mariner ;  bi  t 
from  the  midst  of  that  sulphury  nimbus  came  fcrth  a  clear 
manly  voice,  pronouncing  the  word  "  Missed  !  " 

"Thank  God! "cried  Terence  and  Colin,  in  a  breath; 
"  now  we  have  him  in  our  power  !  He  can't  load  again  I 
Let 's  on  him  all  together !     Heave  ho  ! " 


116  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

And  altering  this  nautical  phrase  of  encouragement,  thfl 
three  rnids,  with  naked  dii-ks,  rushed  simultaneously  towards 
the  maherry. 

The  Arab,  old  as  he  may  have  been,  showed  no  signs  ei- 
ther of  stiffness  or  decrepitude.  On  the  contrary  he  exhibited 
all  the  agility  of  a  tiger-cat ;  along  with  a  fierce  determina- 
tion to  continue  the  combat  he  had  initiated,  —  notwith- 
standing the  odds,  that  were  against  him.  On  discharging 
his  gun,  he  had  flung  the  useless  weapon  to  the  ground  ;  and 
instead  of  it  now  grasped  a  long  curving  scimitar,  with 
which  he  commenced  cutting  around  him  in  every  direc- 
tion. 

Thus  armed,  he  had  the  advantage  of  his  assailants  ;  for 
while  he  might  reach  any  one  of  them  by  a  quick  cut,  they 
with  their  short  dirks  could  not  come  within  thrusting-dis- 
tance  of  him,  without  imminent  danger  of  having  their  arms, 
or  perchance  their  heads,  lopped  sheer  off  their  shoulders. 

Defensively,  too,  had  the  rider  of  the  maherry  an  advan- 
tage over  his  antagonists.  While  within  distance  of  them, 
at  the  point  of  his  curving  blade,  seated  upon  his  high  perch, 
he  was  beyond  the  reach  of  their  weapons.  Get  close  to 
him  as  they  might,  and  spring  as  high  as  they  were  able, 
they  could  not  bring  the  tips  of  their  daggers  in  contact 
with  his  skin. 

In  truth,  there  seemed  no  chance  for  them  to  inflict  the 
slightest  wound  upon  him  ;  while  at  each  fresh  "  wheel  "  of 
the  maherry,  and  each  new  sweep  of  the  scimitar,  one  or 
other  of  them  was  in  danger  of  decapitation  ! 

On  first  entering  uj)on  the  fight,  our  adventurers  had  not 
taken  into  account  the  impregnable  position  of  their  antago- 
nist. Soon,  however,  did  they  discover  the  advantages  in 
bia  favor,  with  their  own  proportionate  drawbacks.  To 
neutralize  these  was  the  question  that  new  occupied  them. 
If  something  was  not  done  soon,  one  ov  other  —  perhaps 
all  three —  would  have  to  succumb  to  that  keen  cutting  of 
the  scimitar. 


A   QUEER  ENCOUNTER.  117 

*  Let 's  kill  the  camel !  "  ened  Harry  Blount,  "  tbat  '11 
bring  him  within  reach  ;  and  then  —  " 

Thf  iea  of  the  English  youth  was  by  no  means  a  bad 
one ;  and  perhaps  Avould  have  been  carried  out.  But  be- 
fore he  could  finish  his  speech,  another  scheme  had  been 
conceived  by  Terence,  —  who  iad  already  taken  steps  to- 
wards its  execution. 

It  was  this  that  had  interrupted  Harry  Blount  in  the  ut- 
terance of  his  counsel. 

At  school  the  young  Milesian  bad  been  distinguished  in 
the  exercise  of  vaulting.  "  Leap-frog  "  had  been  his  espe- 
cial delight ;  and  no  mountebank  could  bound  to  a  ■  greater 
height  than  he.  At  this  crisis  he  remembered  his  old  ac- 
complishment, and  called  it  to  his  aid. 

Seeking  an  opportunity,  —  when  the  head  of  the  maherry 
was  turned  towai'ds  his  comrades,  and  its  tail  to  himself,  — 
he  made  an  energetic  rush ;  sprang  half  a  score  of  feet  from 
the  ground ;  and  flinging  apart  his  feet,  while  in  the  air, 
came  down  "  stride  legs  "  upon  the  croup  of  the  camel. 

It  was  fortunate  for  the  old  Arab  that  the  effort  thu? 
made  by  the  amateur  saltimbanque  had  shaken  the  dirk  from 
his  grasp,  —  else,  in  another  instant,  the  camel  would  have 
ceased  to  "  carry  double." 

As  it  was,  its  two  riders  continued  upon  its  back ;  but  in 
such  close  juxtaposition,  that  it  would  have  required  sharp 
eyes  and  a  good  light  to  tell  that  more  than  one  individual 
was  mounted  upon  it. 

Fast  enfolded  in  the  arms  of  the  vigorous  young  Hiber- 
nian, could  scarce  be  distinguished  the  carcass  of  the  old 
Arab  sheik,  —  shrunken  to  half  size  by  the  powerful  com- 
pression ;  while  the  scimitar,  so  late  whistling  with  perilous 
impetuosity  through  the  air,  was  now  seen  lying  upon  the 
eaud,  —  its  gleam  no  longer  striking  terror  into  the  hearfi 
of  those  whose  heads  it  had  been  threatening  to  lop  off! 


118  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER    XXXV. 

HOLDING    ON    TO    THE   HUMP. 

nC^HE  Straggle  between  Terence  and  the  sheik  still  con- 
i  tinned,  npon  the  back  of  the  maherry.  The  object  of 
the  yonng  Irishman  was  to  unhorse,  or  rather  un-camcl,  hia 
antagonist,  and  get  him  to  the  ground. 

This  design  the  old  Arab  resisted  toughly,  and  with  all  hia 
strength,  knowing  that  dismounted  he  would  be  no  match 
for  the  trio  of  stout  lads  whom  he  had  calculated  on  captur- 
ing at  his  ease.  Once  a  pied  he  would  be  at  their  mercy, 
since  he  was  now  altogether  unarmed.  His  gun  had  been 
unloaded  ;  and  the  shining  scimitar,  of  which  he  had  made 
such  a  dangerous  display,  was  no  longer  in  his  grasp.  A3 
already  stated  it  had  fallen  to  the  ground,  and  at  that  pre- 
cious moment  was  being  picked  up  by  Colin  ;  who  in  «'' 
probability  would  have  used  it  upon  its  owner,  had  not  the 
latter  contrived  to  escape  beyond  its  reach. 

The  mode  of  the  sheik's  escape  was  singular  enough. 
Still  tenaciously  holding  on  to  the  hump,  from  which  the 
young  Irishman  was  using  every  effort  to  detach  him,  he 
saw  that  his  only  chance  of  safety  lay  in  retieating  from  the 
spot,  and,  by  this  means,  separating  the  antagonist  who 
clutcluid  him  from  the  two  otliers  that  threatened  upon  the 
ground  below. 

A  signal  shout  to  the  maherry  was  sufficient  to  effect  hig 
purpose.  On  hearing  it,  the  well-trained  quadruped  wlieelcd, 
as  upon  a  pivot,  and  in  a  shambling,  but  quick  pace,  started 
back  towards  the  ravine,  wlience  it  had  late  issued. 

To  their  consternation  Colin  and  Harry  beheld  this  unex- 
pected movement ;  and  before  cither  of  them  could  lay  hold 
of  the  halter,  —  now  trailing  along  the  sand,  —  the  maherry 
was  going  at  a  rate  of  speed  which  they  vainly  endeavored 


(11   lip 


iM   ' 


Hi*  l'#  li»  ^^vv4\\\«!l| 


HOLDING   ON  TO  TIIE  HUMP.  119 

tvD  surpass  They  could  only  follow  in  its  wake,  —  as  they 
Aid  so,  shouting  to  Terence  to  let  go  his  hold  of  the  sheik, 
and  take  his  chance  of  a  tumble  to  the  ground. 

Their  admonitions  appeared  *  not  to  be  heeded.  They 
were  not  needed,  —  at  least  after  a  short  interval  had 
elapsed. 

At  first  the  young  Irishman  had  been  so  intent  on  his  en- 
deavors to  dismount  his  adversary,  that  he  did  not  notice  the 
signal  given  to  the  maherry,  nor  the  retrograde  movement  it 
had  inaugurated.  Not  until  the  camel  was  re-entering  the 
ravine,  and  the  steep  sides  of  the  sand  dunes  cast  their  dark 
shadows  before  him,  did  he  observe  that  he  was  being  car- 
ried away  from  his  companions. 

Up  to  this  time  he  had  been  vainly  striving  to  detach  the 
sheik  from  his  hold  upon  the  hump.  On  perceiving  the  dan- 
ger, however,  he  desisted  from  this  design,  and  at  once  en- 
tered upon  a  struggle  of  a  very  different  kind,  —  to  detach 
himself. 

In  all  probability  this  would  have  proved  equally  difficult, 
for,  struggle  as  he  might,  the  tough  old  Arab,  no  longer 
troubling  himself  about  the  control  of  his  camel,  had  twist^^i 
his  sinewy  fingers  under  the  midshipman's  dirk-belt,  and 
held  the  latter  in  juxtaposition  to  his  own  body,  supported 
by  the  hump  of  the  maherry,  as  if  his  very  life  depended  on 
not  letting  go. 

A  lucky  circumstance  —  and  this  only  —  hindered  the 
young  Irishman  from  being  carried  to  the  Arab  encamp- 
ment; a  circumstance  very  similar  to  that  which  on  the 
preceding  niglit  had  led  to  the  capture  of  that  same  camel. 

Its  halter  was  again  trailirtg. 

Its  owner,  occupied  with  the  "  double "  which  it  had  so 
unexpectedly  been  called  upon  to  carry,  was  conducting  it 
only  by  his  voice,  and  had  neither  thought  nor  hands  for  the 
halter. 

Once  again  the  trailing  end  got  into  the  split  hoof —  once 


120  THE  BOY    5LAVE3. 

again  the  maherry  was  tripped  up ;  and  came  down  nech 
foremost  upon  the  sand. 

Its  load  was  spilled  —  Bedouin  and  Hibernian  coming 
together  to  the  ground  —  both,  if  not  dangerously  hurt,  at 
least  so  shaken,  as,  for  some  seconds,  to  be  deprived  of  their 
senses. 

Neither  had  quite  recovered  from  the  shock,  when  Harry 
Blount  and  Colin,  coming  up  in  close  pursuit,  stooped  over 
the  prostrate  pair ;  and  neither  Arab  nor  Irishman  was  very 
clear  in  his  comprehension,  when  a  crowd  of  strange  crea- 
tures closed  around  them,  and  took  possession  of  the  whole 
party ;  as  they  did  so  yellmg  like  a  cohort  of  fiends. 

In  the  obfiiscation  of  his  "sivin"  senses,  the  young  Irish- 
man may  have  scarcely  understood  what  was  passing  around 
him.  It  was  too  clear  to  his  companions,  —  clear  as  a  catas- 
trophe could  be  to  those  w^ho  are  its  victims. 

The  shot  fired  by  the  sheik,  if  failing  in  the  effects  in- 
tended, had  produced  a  result  almost  equally  fatal  to  the 
three  fugitives,  —  it  had  given  warning  to  the  Arabs  in  their 
encampment ;  who,  again  sallying  forth,  had  arrived  just  in 
time  to  witness  the  "  decadence  "  of  the  camel,  and  now  sur- 
rounded the  group  that  encircled  it. 

The  courageous  representative  of  England  and  the  cool 
young  Scotchman  were  both  taken  by  surprise,  too  much  so 
to  give  them  a  chance  of  thinking  either  of  resistance  or 
flight ;  while  the  mind  of  the  Irish  middy,  from  a  diflTerent 
cause,  was  equally  in  a  hopeless  "  muddle." 

It  resulted  in  all  thiee  being  captured  and  conducted  uj 
the  ravine  towai'ds  the  camp  of  the  wreckers. 


OUR  ADVENTURERS  IN  UNDRESS.        121 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

CUR  ADVENTURERS  IN  UNDRESS. 

OUR  .adventurers  made  their  approach  to  the  douar,  — 
for  such  is  the  title  of  an  Arab  encampment,  —  with 
as  much  unwillingness  as  Sailor  Bill  had  done  but  an  hour 
before.  Equally  sans  ceranonie,  or  even  with  less  cere- 
mony, did  they  enter  among  the  tents,  and  certainly  in  a  less 
becoming  costume,  —  since  all  three  were  stark  naked  with 
the  exception  of  their  shirts. 

This  was  the  only  article  of  clothing  their  captors  had  left 
upon  their  backs ;  and  so  far  as  comfort  was  concerned,  they 
would  have  been  as  well  without  it:  for  there  was  not  a  thread 
of  the  striped  cotton  that  was  not  saturated  with  sea-water. 

It  was  a  wonder  that  even  these  scanty  garments  were  not 
taken  from  them  ;  considering  the  eagerness  with  which  they 
had  been  divested  of  everything  else. 

On  the  instant  after  being  laid  hold  of,  they  had  been 
stripped  with  as  much  rapidity,  as  if  their  bodies  were  about 
to  be  submitted  to  some  ignominious  chastisement.  But 
they  knew  it  was  not  that  —  only  a  desire  on  the  part  of 
their  captors  to  obtain  possession  of  their  clothes  —  every 
article  of  which  became  the  subject  of  a  separate  contention, 
and  more  than  one  leading  to  a  dispute  that  was  near  ter- 
minating in  a  contest  between  two  scimitars. 

In  this  way  their  jackets  and  dreadnought  trowsers  — 
their  caps  and  shoes  —  their  dirks,  belts,  and  pocket  para- 
phernalia —  were  distributed  among  nearly  as  many  claim- 
ants as  there  were  pieces. 

You  may  suppose-  that  modesty  interfered  to  resei've  to 
them  their  shirts  ?     Such  a  suoposition  would  be  altogether 
erroneous.     There  is  no  such  word  in  the  Bedouin  vocabu 
ary  —  no  such  feeling  in  the  Bedouin  bi-east, 
6 


122  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

In  tho  dounr  to  which  they  were  conducted  were  lads  aa 
old  as  thoy,  and  lasses  too,  without  the  semblauce  of  clothing 
upon  their  nude  bodies;  not  even  a  shirt,  —  not  even  the 
orientally  zamed  fig-leaf ! 

The  reason  of  their  being  allowed  to  retain  their  homely 
garments  had  notliing  to  do  with  any  sentiment  of  delicacy. 
For  the  favor,  —  if  such  it  coidd  be  called,  —  they  were 
simply  indebted  to  the  avarice  of  the  old  sheik,  who,  hav- 
ing recovered  from  the  stunning  effects  of  his  tumble, 
claimed  all  three  as  his  captives,  and  their  shirts  along  ivith 
them  ! 

His  claim  as  to  their  persons  was  not  disputed  ;  they  were 
his  by  Saaran  custom.  So,  too,  would  their  clothing,  had  his 
capture  been  complete  ;  but  as  there  was  a  question  about 
this,  a  distribution  of  the  garments  had  been  demanded  and 
acceded  to. 

The  sheik,  however,  would  not  agree  to  giving  up  the 
shirts  ;  loudly  declaring  that  they  belonged  to  the  skin ;  and 
after  some  discussion  on  this  moot  point,  his  claim  was  al- 
lowed ;  and  our  adventurers  were  spared  the  shame  of  enter- 
ing the  Arab  encampment  in  puris  naturalibus. 

In  their  shirts  did  they  once  more  stand  fa^e  lo  face  with 
Sailor  Bill,  not  a  bit  better  clad  than  they  :  for  though  the 
old  man-o'-war's-man  was  still  "  anchored  "  by  the  marquee 
of  the  black  sheik,  his  "  toggery  "  had  long  before  been  dis- 
tributed throughout  the  douar  ;  and  scarce  a  tent  but  con- 
tained some  portion  of  his  "  belongings." 

His  youthful  comrades  saw,  but  were  not  permitted  to 
approach  him.  They  were  the  undisputed  property  of  the 
rival  chieftain,  —  to  whose  tent  they  were  taken ;  but  not 
untU  they  had  "  run  a  muck  "  among  the  women  and  chil- 
dren, very  similai-  to  that  which  Bill  had  to  submit  to  him- 
self. It  terminated  in  a  similar  manner :  that  is,  by  their 
owner  taking  them  under  his  protection,  —  not  from  any 
motives  of  humanity,  but  simply  to  save  his  property  from 


THE  CAPTIVES  IK   CONVERSATION.  J  23 

receiving  damage  at  the  hands  of  the  incarnate  female  furies, 
who  seemed  to  take  delight  in  maltreating  them ! 

The  old  sheik,  after  allowing  his  fair  followers,  with  their 
juvenile  neophites,  for  some  length  of  time  to  indulge  in 
their  customary  mode  of  saluting  strange  captives,  with- 
drew the  latter  beyond  the  reach  of  persecution,  to  a  place 
assigned  them  under  the  shadow  of  his  tent.  There,  with 
a  sinewy  Arab  standing  over  them,  —  though  as  often 
squatted  beside  them,  —  they  were  permitted  to  pass  the 
remainder  of  the  night,  if  not  in  sleep  at  least  in  a  stata 
of  tranquillity. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

THE    CAPTIVES    IN   CONVERSATION. 

THIS  tranquillity  only  related  to  any  disturbance  expe 
rienced  from  their  captors.     There  was  none. 

These  had  been  on  the  eve  of  striking  their  tents,  and 
moving  off  to  some  other  oasis,  —  previous  to  the  last  inci- 
dent that  had  arisen. 

As  already  stated,  the  two  sheiks,  by  a  mutual  under- 
standing, had  been  about  to  shake  hands,  and  separate,— 
the  son  of  Japhet  going  north,  to  the  markets  of  Morocco, 
while  the  descendant  of  Ham  was  to  face  homeward  to  his 
more  tropical  and  appropriate  clime,  —  under  the  skies  of 
Timbuctoo. 

The  "windfall"  that  had  so  unexpectedly  dropped  iiito 
the  douar;  first  in  the  shape  of  Sailor  Bill,  —  and  after- 
wards, in  more  generous  guise,  by  the  capture  of  the  three 
"young  gentlemen"  of  the  gunroom,  — ha4  caused  som» 
change  in  the  plans  of  their  captors. 


124  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

By  mutual  understanding  between  the  two  sheiks,  some 
thing  was  to  be  done  in  the  morning ;  and  their  design  of 
separating  was  deferred  to  another  day. 

The  order  to  strike  tents  had  been  countermanded :  and 
both  tribes  retired  to  rest,  —  as  soon  as  the  captives  had 
been  disposed  of  for  the  night. 

The  douar  was  silent,  —  so  far  as  the  children  of  Ham 
and  Japhet  were  concerned.  Even  their  children  had  ceased 
to  clamor  and  squall. 

At  intervals  might  be  heard  the  neigh  of  a  Barbary 
horse,  the  barking  of  a  dog,  the  bleating  of  a  goat,  or  a 
sound  yet  more  appropriate  to  the  scene,  the  snorting  of  a 
maherry. 

In  addition  to  these,  human  voices  were  heard.  But  they 
proceeded  from  the  throats  of  the  sons  of  Shem.  For  the 
most  part  they  were  uttered  in  a  low  tone,  as  the  three  mid- 
shipmen conversed  seriously  and  earnestly  together  ;  but 
occasionally  they  became  elevated  to  a  higher  pitch,  when 
Sailor  Bill,  guarded  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  encampment 
—  took  part  in  the  conversation,  and  louder  speech  was 
necessary  to  the  interchange  of  thought  between  him  and 
his  fellow-captives. 

The  Arab  watchers  offered  no  interruption.  They  under- 
stood not  a  word  of  what  was  being  said,  and  so  long  as  the 
conversation  of  their  captives  did  not  disturb  the  douar,  they 
paid  no  heed  to  it. 

"  What  have  they  done  to  you.  Bill  ?  "  was  the  first  ques- 
tion asked  by  the  new  comers,  after  they  had  been  left 
free  to  make  inquiries. 

"  Falx ! "  responded  the  sailor,  for  it  was  Terry  who  had 
put  the  interrogatory:  "iverything  they  cowl  J  think  av — • 
iverything  to  make  an  old  salt  as  uncomfortable  as  can  be. 
They  've  not  left  a  sound  bone  in  my  body  ;  nor  a  spot  on 
my  skin  that 's  not  ayther  pricked  or  scratched  wid  thaf 
cruel  th.rns.     My  carcass  must  be  like  an  old  seventy-foui 


THE  CAPTIVES  IN  CONVERSATION.  12d 

after  comin'  out  av  action  —  as  full  av  holes  as  a  .neal 
sieve." 

"  But  what  did  they  do  to  you,  Bill  ?  "  said  Colin,  almost 
literally  repeating  the  interrogatory  of  Terence. 

The  sailor  detailed  his  experiences  since  entering  the  en- 
campment. 

"  It 's  very  clear,"  remarked  the  young  Scotchman,  "  that 
we  need  look  for  nothing  but  ill-treatment  at  the  hands  of 
these  worse  than  savages.  I  suppose  they  intend  making 
slaves  of  us." 

"  That  at  least,"  quietly  aspented  Harry. 

"  Sartin,"  said  the  sailor.  "  They  've  let  me  know  as  much 
a'ready.  There  be  two  captains  to  their  crew ;  one  's  the 
smoke-dried  old  sinner  as  brought  yer  in  ;  the  other  a  big 
nayger,  as  black  as  the  ace  o'  spades.  You  saw  the  swab  ? 
He  's  inside  the  tent  here.  He  's  my  master.  The  two 
came  nigh  quarrelling  about  which  should  have  me,  and  set- 
tled it  by  some  sort  o'  a  game  they  played  wi'  balls  of  kay- 
mal's  dung.  The  black  won  me ;  an'  that 's  why  I  'm  kep 
by  his  tent.  Mother  av  Moses  !  Only  to  think  of  a  British 
tar  being  the  slave  o'  a  sooty  nayger  !  I  never  thought  it 
wud  a  come  to  this." 

"  Where  do  you  think  they  '11  take  us,  Bill  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  only  knows,  an'  whether  we  're  all  bound  fot 
the  same  port." 

"  What !  you  think  we  may  be  separated  ?  " 

"  Be  ma  sang,  Maister  Colin,  I  ha'e  ma  fears  we  wull ! " 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Why,  ye  see,  as  I  've  telt  ye,  I  'm  booked  to  ship  wi'  the 
black,  — '  sheik '  I  've  heerd  them  ca'  him.  Well :  from 
what  I  ha'e  seed  and  heerd,  there  's  nae  doot  they  're  gaein' 
to  separate  an'  tak  different  roads.  I  didna  ken  muckle  o' 
what  they  sayed,  but  I  could  mak  oot  two  words  I  hae  often 
heerd  while  cruisin'  in  the  Gulf  o'  Guinea.  They  are  the 
names  o'  two  great  toons,  a  lang  way  up  the  kiutry,  —  Tim 


126  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

buctoo  and  Sockatoo.  They  are  negro  toons  ;  an'  for  thai 
reezun  I  ha'e  a  suspeshun  my  master  's  bound  to  one  or  oth- 
er o'  the  two  ports." 

"But  why  do  you  think  that  we  are  to  be  taken  else- 
where ?  "  demanded  Harry  Blount. 

"  Why,  because,  ^Master  'Arry,  you  belong  to  the  hold 
Bheik,  as  is  plainly  a  Harab,  an'  oose  port  of  hentry  lies  in  a 
different  direction,  —  that  be  to  the  ncrthart." 

"  It  is  all  Ukely  enough,"  said  Colin ;  "  Bill's  prognostica- 
tion is  but  too  probable." 

"Why,  ye  see,  Maister  Colin,  they  are  only  land  sharks 
who  ha'e  got  hold  o'  us.  They  're  too  poor  to  keep  us  ;  an' 
wull  be  sure  to  sell  us  somewhere,  an'  to  somebody  that  ha'e 
got  the  tocher  to  gie  for  us.  That 's  what  they  '11  do  wi'  U3 
poor  bodies." 

"  I  hope,"  said  Terence,  "  they  '11  not  part  us.  No  doubt 
slavery  will  be  hard  enough  to  bear  under  any  circumstan 
ces ;  but  harder  if  we  have  to  endure  it  alone.  Together, 
we  might  do  something  to  alleviate  one  another's  lot.  I 
hope  we  shall  not  be  separated ! " 

To  this  hope  all  the  others  made  a  sincere  response ;  and 
the  conversation  came  to  an  end.  They  who  had  been  car- 
rying it  on,  worn  out  by  fatigue,  and  watchfulness  long  pro- 
tracted,—  despite  the  unpleasantness  of  their  situation,— 
Boon  after,  and  simultaneously,  yielded  their  spirits  to  th« 
toothing  oblivion  of  sleep. 


THE  DOUAR  AT  DAWN.  127 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE  DOUAR  AT  DAWN. 

ri^HEY   could   have   slept  for  hours, — twentj-'four   oi 

i      them,  —  had  they  beeh  permitted  such  indulgence. 

But  they  were  not.  As  the  first  streaks  of  daylight  be- 
came visible  over  the  eastern  horizon,  the  whole  douar  waa 
up  and  doing. 

The  women  and  children  of  both  hordes  were  seen  flitting 
like  shadows  among  the  tents.  Some  squatted  under  cam- 
els, or  kneeling  by  the  sides  of  the  goats,  drew  from  these 
animals  that  lacteal  fluid  that  may  be  said  to  form  the  sta- 
ple of  their  food.  Others  might  be  observed  emptying  the 
precious  liquid  into  skin  bottles  and  sacks,  and  securing  it 
against  spilling  in  its  transport  through  the  deserts. 

The  matrons  of  the  tribes  —  hags  Ihey  looked  —  were 
preparing  the  true  dejeuner,  consisting  of  Sangleh,  —  a  sort  of 
gruel,  made  with  millet  meal,  boiled  over  a  dull  fire  of  cam- 
el's dung. 

The  Sangleh  was  to  be  eaten,  by  such  of  them  as  could  af- 
ford it,  mixed  with  goats'  or  camels'  milk,  —  unstrained  and 
hairy,  —  half  curdled  into  a  crab-like  acidity,  the  moment  it 
entered  its  stinking  receptacle. 

Here  and  there  men  were  seen  milking  their  mares  or 
mahemes,  —  not  a  few  indulging  in  the  universal  beverage 
by  a  direct  application  of  their  lips  to  the  teats  of  the  ani- 
mal ;  while  others,  appointed  to  the  task,  were  preparing  the 
paraphernalia  of  the  douar,  for  transportation  to  some  distant 
oasis. 

Watching  these  various  movements,  were  the  three  mids, 
—  still  stripped  to  their  shirts,  —  and  the  old  man-o*-war's- 
man,  clad  with  like  scantiness ;  since  the  only  garment  that 
clung  to  hio  sinewy  frame  was  a  pair  of  cotton  drawer?.  aei« 
ther  very  clean  nor  very  sound  at  the  seams. 


1^8  THE  BOY  SLAVES 

All  four  shivered  in  the  chill  air  of  the  morning ;  for  hot 
as  is  the  Saiira  jnder  its  noonday  sun,  in  the  night  houra 
its  thermometer  frequently  falls  almost  to  the  point  of  freez- 
ing! 

Their  state  of  discomfort  did  not  hinder  them  from  ob- 
serving what  was  pas-ing  around  them.  They  could  have 
slept  on ;  but  the  discordant  noises  of  the  douar,  and  a  be- 
lief that  they  would  not  be  permitted  any  longer  to  enjoy 
their  interrupted  slumbers,  hindered  them  from  reclosing 
their  eyes.  Still  recumbent,  and  occasionally  exchanging 
remarks  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  they  noted  the  customs  of 
their  captors. 

The  young  Scotchman  had  read  many  books  relating  to 
the  prairies  of  America,  and  their  savage  denizens.  He 
was  forcibly  reminded  of  these  by  what  he  now  saw  in 
this  oasis  of  the  sandy  Saara ;  the  women  treated  like  dogs, 
or  worse,  —  doing  all  the  work  that  might  be  termed  labor, 
" —  tending  the  cattle,  cooking  the  meals,  pitching  or  striking 
the  tents,  loading  the  animals,  —  and  themselves  bearing 
such  portions  of  the  load  as  exceeded  the  transport  strength 
of  the  tribal  quadrupeds,  —  aided  only  by  such  wretched 
helots  as  misfortune  had  flung  in  the  way  of  their  common 
masters.  The  men,  mostly  idle,  —  ludicrously  nonchalant,  — 
reclining  on  their  saddle-pads,  or  skins,  inhaling  the  narcotic 
weed,  apparently  proud  in  the  possession  of  that  lordship  of 
wretchedness  that  surrounded  them. 

Colin  was  constrained  to  compare  the  savage  life  of  two 
continents,  separated  by  an  ocean.  He  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion, that  under  similar  circumstances,  mankind  will  ever  be 
the  same.  In  the  Comanche  of  the  Llano  Esfacado,  or  the 
Pawnee  of  the  Platte,  he  would  have  found  an  exact  coun- 
terpart of  the  Ishmaelitish  wanderer  over  the  sandy  plains 
01  the  Sailra. 

He  was  allowed  but  scant  time  to  philosophize  upon  these 
ethnolog'.ctd  phenomena.     As  the  douar  became  stirre:<l  int« 


AN   OBSTINATE  DROMEDARY.  129 

general  activity,  he,  along  with  his  two  companions,  was 
rudely  started  from  his  attitude  of  observation,  and  ordered 
to  take  a  share  in  the  toils  of  the  captors. 

At  an  earlier  hour,  and  still  more  rudely,  had  Sailor  Bill 
received  the  commands  of  his  master ;  who,  as  the  first  rays 
of  the  Aurora  began  to  dapple  the  horizon,  had  ordered  the 
old  man-o-war's-man  to  his  feet,  at  the  same  time  adminis- 
tering to  him  a  cruel  kick,  that  came  very  near  shivering 
some  of  his  stern  timbers. 

Had  the  black  sheik  been  acquainted  with  the  English 
language,  —  as  spoken  in  Rateliff  Highway,  —  he  would 
have  better  understood  Sailor  Bill's  reply  to  his  rude  matu- 
tinal salutation ;  which,  along  with  several  not  very  compli- 
mentary wishes,  ended  by  devoting  the  "  nayger's "  eyes  to 
eternal  perdition. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

AN    OBSTINATE    DROMEDARY. 

ri^HE  morning  meal  was  eaten  as  soon  as  prepared.  Its 
i  scantiness  surprised  our  adventurers.  Even  the 
more  distinguished  individuals  of  the  horde  partook  of  only 
a  very  small  quantity  of  milk,  or  sangleh.  The  two  sheiks 
ftlone  got  anything  like  what  might  have  been  deemed  an 
ordinary  breakfast  ;  while  the  more  common  class,  as  the 
half-breeds  —  hassanes  —  and  the  negro  slaves  had  to  con- 
tent themselves  with  less  than  a  pint  of  sour  milk  to  each, 
half  of  which  was  water  —  the  mixture  denominated  cJieni. 

Could  this  meal  be  meant  for  breakfast  ?     Harry  Blount 
and  Terence  thought  not.     But  Colin  corrected  them,  by 
alleging  that  it  was.      He  had   read  of  the  wonderful  ab- 
6*  I 


130  THE  BOY  SLA\nt:S. 

stemiousness  of  these  children  of  the  desert :  hoAv  they  can 
live  on  a  single  meal  a  day,  and  tills  scarce  sufficient  to  sus- 
tain life  in  a  child  of  six  years  old ;  that  is,  an  English  child 
Often  will  they  go  for  several  successive  days  without  eating 
and  when  they  do  eat  regularly,  a  drink  of  milk  is  all  they 
require  to  sati.-fy  hunger. 

Colin  was  right.  It  was  their  ordinary  breakfast.  He 
might  have  added,  their  dinner  too,  for  they  would  not  likely 
obtain  another  morsel  of  food  before  sundown. 

But  where  was  the  breakfast  of  Colin  and  his  fellow-cap- 
tives ?  This  was  the  question  that  interested  them  for  more 
than  the  dietary  of  the  Bedouins.  They  were  all  hungering 
like  hyenas,  and  yet  no  one  seemed  to  think  of  them  —  no 
one  offered  them  either  bite  or  sup.  Filthy  as  was  the  mess 
made  by  the  Arab  women,  and  filthily  as  they  prepared 
it,  —  boiling  it  in  pots,  and  serving  it  up  in  wooden  dishes, 
that  did  not  appear  to  have  had  a  washing  for  weeks,  —  the 
sight  of  it  increased  the  hungry  cravings  of  the  captives  ; 
and  they  would  fain  have  been  permitted  to  share  the  scanty 
dejeuner. 

They  made  signs  of  their  desire  ;  piteous  appeals  for  food, 
by  looks  and  gestures  ;  but  all  in  vain  :  not  a  morsel  was 
bestowed  on  them.  Their  brutal  captors  only  laughed  at 
them,  as  though  they  intended  that  all  four  should  go  with- 
out eating. 

it  soon  became  clear  that  they  were  not  to  starve  in  idle- 
ness. As  seon  as  they  had  been  started  to  their  feet  each 
of  them  W3S  set  to  a  task ;  one  to  collect  camels'  dung  for 
the  cooking  fires  ;  another  to  fetch  water  from  the  brackish 
Qiuddy  pool  wMch  had  caused  tlie  oasis  to  become  a  place 
of  encampment ;  while  the  third  was  called  upon  to  assist 
in  the  loading  of  the  tent  equipage,  along  with  the  salvage 
of  the  wreck,  —  an  operation  entered  upon  as  soon  as  the 
gangleh  had  been  swallowed. 

Sailoi   Bill,  in  a  different  pai't  of  the  douar,  was  kepj 


AN   OBSTINATE   DROMEDARY.  131 

equally  upon  tlic  alert :  and  if  he,  or  any  of  the  other  three, 
showed  signs  of  disliking  their  respc>ctive  tasks,  one  of  the 
two  sheiks  made  little  ado  about  striking  them  with  a  leath- 
ern strap,  a  knotty  stick,  or  any  weapon  that  clianced  to 
f.ome  readiest  to  hand.  They  soon  discovered  that  they 
were  under  the  government  of  taskmasters  not  to  be  trifled 
with,  and  that  resistance  or  remonstrance  would  be  alike  fu- 
tile.    In  short,  they  saw  that  they  were  slaves  ! 

While  packing  the  tents,  and  otherwise  preparing  for  the 
march,  they  were  witnesses  to  many  customs,  curious  as  new 
to  them.  The  odd  equipages  of  the  animals,  —  both  those 
of  burden  and  those  intended  to  be  ridden,  —  the  oval  pan- 
niers, placed  upon  the  backs  of  the  camels,  to  carry  the  wom- 
en and  younger  chihlren ;  the  square  pads  upon  the  humps 
of  the  maherries ;  the  tawny  little  piccaninnies  strapped 
upon  the  backs  of  their  mothers ;  the  kneeling  of  the  cam- 
els to  receive  their  loads,  —  as  if  consenting  to  what  could 
not  be  otherwise  than  disagreeable  to  them,  —  were  all 
sights  that  miglit  have  greatly  uitei-ested  our  adventurers, 
had  they  been  viewing  them  under  diflerent  circumstances. 

Out  of  the  last  mentioned  of  these  sights,  an  incident 
arose,  illustrating  the  craft  of  their  captors  in  the  maaage- 
ment  of  their  domestic  animals. 

A  refractory  camel,  that,  according  to  usual  habit,  had 
voluntarily  humiliated  itself  to  receive  its  load,  after  this 
had  been  packed  upon  it,  refused  to  rise  to  its  feet.  The 
beast  either  deemed  the  burden  inequable  and  unjust,  —  for 
the  Arabian  camel,  like  the  Peruvian  llama,  has  a  very 
acute  perception  of  fair  play  in  tliis  respect,  —  or  a  fit  of 
caprice  had  entered  its  mulish  head.  For  one  reason  or  an- 
other it  exhibited  a  stern  determination  not  to  oblige  its 
owner  by  rising  to  its  feet ;  but  continued  its  gjnuflexion  in 
spite  of  every  effort  to  get  it  on  all-fours. 

Coaxing  and  cajolery  were  tried  to  no  purpose.  Kicking 
by  sandalled  feet,  scourging  with  whips,  and  beating  witb 


132  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

cudgels  produced  no  better  effect ;  and  to  all  appearance  th« 
obstiuate  brute  had  made  up  its  mind  to  remain  in  the  oasis 
and  let  the  tribe  depart  without  it. 

At  this  crisis  an  ingenious  method  of  making  the  camel 
diange  its  mind  suggested  itself  to  its  master ;  or  perhaps  he 
had  practised  it  on  some  former  occasion.  Maddened  by  the 
obstinacy  of  the  animal,  he  seized  hold  of  an  old  burnouse, 
and  rushing  up,  threw  it  over  its  head.  Then  drawing  the 
rag  tightly  around  its  snout,  he  fastened  it  in  such  a  manner 
as  completely  to  stop  up  the  nostrils. 

The  camel  finding  its  breathing  thus  suddenly  interrupted, 
became  terrified ;  and  without  further  loss  of  time,  scram- 
bled to  its  feet  —  to  the  great  amusement  of  the  women  and 
children  who  were  spectators  of  the  scene. 


CHAPTER    XL. 

WATERING    THE    CAMELS. 

IN  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time  the  tents  were  down, 
and  the  douar  with  all  its  belongings  was  no  longer  to  be 
seen ;  or  only  in  the  shape  of  sundry  packages  balanced 
upon  the  backs  of  the  animals. 

The  last  operation  before  striking  out  upon  the  desert 
track,  was  the  watering  of  these  ;  the  supply  for  the  journey 
having  been  already  dipped  up  out  of  the  pool,  and  poured 
into  goat-skin  sacks. 

The  watering  of  the  camels  appeared  to  be  regarded  as 
the  most  imjjortant  matter  of  all.  In  this  performance 
evej  V  precaution  was  taken,  and  every  attention  bestowed, 
tw  e  sure  to  the  animals  a  full  supply  of  the  precious  fiuid, 
—  r-   fhaps  from  a  preseutiment  on  the  part  of  their  owner« 


WATERING   THE   CAMELS.  133 

tTiat  they  themselves  might  some  day  stand  in  need  of,  and 
make  use  of,  the  saine  water ! 

Whether  this  was  the  motive  or  not,  every  camel  belong*- 
uig  to  the  horde  was  compelled  to  drink  till  its  capacious 
stomach  was  quite  full ;  and  the  quantity  consumed  by  each 
would  be  mcredible  to  any  other  than  the  owner  of  an  Afri- 
can dromsdary.  Only  a  very  large  cask  could  have  con- 
tained it. 

At  the  watering  of  the  animals,  our  adventurers  had  an 
opportunity  of  observing  anotlier  incident  of  the  Saiira,— 
quite  as  curious  and  original  as  that  already  described. 

It  chanced  that  the  pool  that  fm-ni^hed  the  precious  fluid, 
and  which  contained  the  only  fresh  water  to  be  found  witliia 
fifty  miles,  was  just  then  on  the  eve  of  being  dried  up.  A 
long  season  of  drought  —  that  is  to  say,  three  or  four  years 
— had  reigned  over  this  particular  portion  of  the  desert, 
and  the  lagoon,  formerly  somewhat  extensive,  had  shrunk 
into  the  dimensions  of  a  trifling  tank,  containing  Uttle  more 
than  two  or  three  hundred  gallons.  This,  during  the  stay 
of  the  two  tribes  united  as  wreckers,  had  been  daily  dimin- 
ishing ;  and  had  the  occupants  of  the  douar  not  struck  tents 
at  the  time  they  did,  in  another  day  or  so  they  would  have 
been  in  danger  of  suffering  from  thirst.  This  was  in  reality 
the  cause  of  their  projected  migration.  But  for  the  fear  of 
getting  short  in  the  necessary  commodity  of  fresh  water, 
they  would  have  hugged  the  seashore  a  little  longer,  ia 
hopes  of  picking  up  a  few  more  "  waifs  "  from  the  wreck  of 
the  English  ship. 

At  the  hour  of  their  departure  from  the  encampment,  the 
pool  was  on  the  eve  of  exhaustion.  Only  a  few  score  gal- 
lons of  not  very  pure  water  remained  in  it —  about  enough 
to  fill  the  capacious  stomachs  of  the  camels  ;  whose  ownera 
bad  gauged  them  too  often  to  be  ignorant  of  the  quantity. 

It  would  not  do  to  play  with  this  closely  calculated  3up- 
l»ly.     Every  pint  was  precious;  and  to  prove  that  it  waa 


134  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

60  esteemed,  the  animals  were  constrained  to  swallow  it  m  a 
fashion,  which  certainly  nature  could  never  have  intended. 

Instead  of  taking  it  in  by  the  mouth,  the  camels  of  thes* 
Saiiran  rovers  were  compelled  to  quench  their  thirst  through 
the  nostrils! 

You  will  wonder  in  what  manner  this  could  be  effected? 
inquiring  whether  the  quadrupeds  voluntarily  performed  this 
■nasal  imbibing? 

Our  adventurers,  witnesses  of  the  fact,  wondered  also  — 
while  struck  with  its  quaint  peculiarity. 

There  is  a  proverb  that  "  one  man  may  take  a  horse  to 
the  water,  but  twenty  cannot  compel  liim  to  drink."  Though 
this  proverb  may  hold  good  of  an  English  horse,  it  has  no 
eignilicance  when  applied  to  an  African  dromedary.  Proof. 
Our  adventurers  saw  the  owner  of  each  camel  bring  hia 
animal  to  the  edge  of  the  pool ;  but  instead  of  permitting 
the  thirsty  creature  to  step  in  and  drink  for  itself,  its  head 
was  held  aloft,  a  wooden  funnel  was  iilled,  the  narrow  end 
inserted  into  the  nostril,  and  by  the  respiratory  canal  the 
water  introduced  to  the  throat  and  stomach  ! 

You  may  ask,  why  this  selection  of  the  nostrils  instead 
of  the  mouth?  Our  adventurers  so  interrogated  one  an- 
other. It  was  only  after  becoming  better  acquainted  with 
the  customs  of  the  Saiira  that  they  acquired  a  satisfactory 
explanation  of  one  they  had  frequent  occasion  to  observe. 

Tliough  ordinarily  of  the  most  docile  disposition,  and  in 
most  of  its  movements  the  most  tranquil  of  creatures,  the 
dromedary,  when  drinking  from  a  vessel,  has  the  habit  of 
repeatedly  shaking  its  head,  and  spilling  large  quantities  of 
the  water  placed  before  it.  Where  water  is  scarce,  —  and, 
as  in  the  Saiira,  considered  the  most  momentous  matter  of 
life,  —  a  waste  of  it  after  such  a  fashion  could  not  be  toleiv 
ated.  To  prevent  it,  therefore,  the  camel-owner  has  con- 
nived that  Uiis  animal,  so  essential  to  his  own  safe  existence, 
should  drink  through  the  orifices  intended  by  nature  for  its 
respiration. 


A  SQUABBLE  BETWEEN  THE  SHEIKS.  135 

CHAPTER    XL  I. 

A    SQl'ABBLE    BETWEEN    THE    SHEIKS. 

THE  process  of  watering  the  camels  was  carried  on  with 
the  utmost  diligence  and  care.  It  was  too  important 
to  be  trifled  with,  or  negligently  performed.  While  filling 
the  capacious  stomachs  of  the  quadrupeds,  their  owners  were 
but  laying  in  a  stock  for  themselves. 

As  Sailor  Bill  jocularly  remarked,  "  it  was  like  filling  the 
water-casks  of  a  man-of-war  previous  to  weighing  anchor 
for  a  voyage."  In  truth,  very  similar  was  the  purpose  for 
which  these  ships  of  the  desert  were  being  supplied ;  foi, 
when  filling  the  capacious  stomachs  of  the  quadrupeds,  their 
owners  were  not  without  the  reflection  that  the  supply  might 
yet  pass  into  their  own.  Such  a  contingency  was  not  im- 
probable, neither  would  it  be  new. 

For  this  reason  the  operation  was  conducted  with  dili- 
gence and  care,  —  no  camel  being  led  away  from  the  pool 
until  it  was  supposed  to  have  had  a  "  surfeit,"  and  this  point 
was  settled  by  seeing  the  water  poured  in  at  its  nostrils  Tur- 
ning out  at  its  mouth. 

As  each  in  turn  got  filled,  it  was  taken  back  to  the  tribe 
to  which  it  belonged  ;  for  the  united  hordes  had  by  this  time 
become  separated  into  two  distinct  parties,  preparatory  to 
starting  off  on  their  respective  routes. 

Our  adventurers  could  now  perceive  a  marked  difference 
between  the  two  bands  of  Saara  wanderers  into  whose  hands 
they  had  unfortunately  fallen.  As  already  stated,  the  black 
Bheik  was  an  African  of  the  true  negro  type,  with  thick  lips, 
flattened  nostrils,  woolly  hair,  and  heels  projecting  several 
inches  to  the  rear  of  his  ankle-joints.  Most  of  his  following 
were  similarly  '  furnished,"  though  not  all  of  them.  There 
were  a  few  of  mixed  color,  with  straight  hair,  and  featurei 


135  THE   BOY  SLAVES. 

almost  Caucasian,  who  submitted  to  his  rule,  or  rather  to  hi» 
ownership,  since  these  last  all  appeared  to  be  his  slaves. 

Those  who  trooped  after  the  ohl  Arab  were  mostly  of  hia 
own  race,  mixed  with  a  remnant  of  mongrel  Portuguese, — 
descendants  of  the  peninsular  colonists  who  had  tied  from 
the  coast  settlements  after  the  conquest  of  Morocco  by  the 
victorious  "  Sheriffs." 

Of  such  mixed  races  are  the  tribes  who  thinly  people  the 
Sajira, — Arabs,  Berbers,  Ethiopians  of  every  hue;  al' 
equally  Bedoweens,  —  wanderers  of  the  pathless  deserts. 
It  did  not  escape  the  observation  of  our  adventurers  that 
the  slaves  of  the  Arab  sheik  and  his  followers  were  mostly 
pure  negroes  from  the  south,  while  those  of  the  black  chief- 
tain, —  as  proclaimed  by  the  color  of  their  skin,  —  showed 
a  Shemitic  or  Japhetic  origin.  The  philosophic  Colin  could 
perceive  in  this  a  silent  evidence  of  the  retribution  of  races. 

The  supply  of  water  being  at  length  laid  in,  not  only  in 
the  skins  appropriated  to  the  purpose,  but  also  within  the 
stomachs  of  the  camels,  the  two  tribes  seemed  prepared  to 
exchange  with  each  other  the  parting  salute,  —  to  speak  the 
"  Peace  be  with  you  ! "  And  yet  there  was  something  that 
caused  them  to  Unger  in  each  other's  proximity.  Their 
new-made  captives  could  tell  this,  though  ignorant  of  what 
it  might  be. 

It  was  something  that  had  yet  to  be  settled  between  the 
two  sheiks,  who  did  not  appear  at  this  moment  of  leave-tak- 
ing to  entertain  for  each  other  any  very  cordial  sentiment 
of  friendship. 

Could  their  thoughts  have  found  expression  in  English 
words,  they  would  have  taken  shape  somewhat  as  follows  :  — 

"  That  lubberly  nigger,"  (we  are  pursuing  the  train  of  re- 
flections that  passed  through  the  mind  of  the  Arab  sheik,) 
^old  Nick  burn  him!  — thinks  I've  got  more  than  my  share 
of  this  lucky  windfall.  He  wants  these  boys  bad,  —  1  know 
that.     The  Sultan  of  Timbuctoo  has  given  him  a  commis- 


A  SQUABBLE  BETWEEN  THE  SHEIKS.  13i 

sion  to  procure  white  slaves,  —  that's  clear ;  and  boy  slaves 
if  lie  can,  —  that 's  equally  certain.  This  lot  would  suit  him 
to  a  T.  I  can  tell  that  he  don't  care  much  tor  the  old  salt 
he  has  tricked  me  out  of  by  his  superior  skill  at  that  silly 
game  of  helga.  No ;  His  Majesty  of  the  mud-walled  city 
don't  want  sucli  as  him.  It's  boys  he  's  after,  — as  can  wait 
smartly  at  his  royal  table,  and  give  eclat  to  his  ceremonial 
e itertaiuments.     Well,  he  can  have  these  three  at  a  pi-ice" 

"  Ay,  but  a  big  price,"  continued  the  cunning  old  trafficker 
in  human  Hesh,  after  a  short  reflection,  "  a  woppuig  big 
pvit  e.  The  togs  we  've  stripped  from  them  were  no  common 
clothing.  Good  broadcloth  in  their  jackets,  and  bullion 
bands  on  their  caps.  They  must  be  the  sons  of  great 
sheiks.  At  Wedmoon  the  old  Jew  will  redeem  them.  So, 
too,  the  merchants  at  Suse ;  or  maybe  1  had  best  take  them 
on  to  JMogadoi",  where  the  consul  of  their  country  will  come 
down  handsomely  for  such  as  they.     Yes,  that 's  the  trick  !  " 

At  this  parting  scene  the  thoughts  of  Fatima's  husband 
were  equally  occupied  with  trading  speculations,  in  which  ha 
was  assisted  by  the  amiable  Fatiraa  herself. 

Translated  also  into  English,  they  would  have  read  aa 
follows  :  — 

"The  Sultan  would  give  threescore  of  his  best  blacks  for 
those  three  tripe-colored  brats." 

"  I  know  it,  Fatty  dear ;  he  's  told  me  so  himself." 

"  Then  why  not  get  them,  and  biing  'em  along?  " 

"  Ah,  that 's  easy  to  say.  How  can  I  ?  You  know  they 
belong  to  the  old  Arab  by  right,  —  at  least,  he  claims  tliem, 
though  not  very  fixirly,  for  if  we  had  n't  come  up  in  good  time 
they  would  have  taken  him  instead  of  his  taking  thesn  ;  no 
matter  for  that,  they  're  his  now  l)y  the  laws  of  the  Saara. 

"  Bother  the  laws  of  the  Satira !  "  exclaimed  Fatima,  with 
a  disdainful  toss  of  her  head,  and  a  scornful  turnuig  up  of 
her  two  protruding  teeth  ;  "  all  stuff  and  nonsense  !  There  'a 
no  law  in  the  Saara ;  and  if  th.ere  was,  you  know  we  're 


138  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

never  coming  into  it  again.  The  price  you  'd  get  for  those 
three  hobbledehoys  would  keep  us  comfortable  for  the  bal- 
ance  of  our  lives  ;  and  we  need  never  truck  the  Devil's  Des- 
ert again.  Take  'em  by  force  from  old  Yellow-face,  if  you 
can 't  get  'em  otherwise  ;  but  you  may  '  chouse '  him  out  of 
them  at  a  game  of  helga,  —  you  know  you  can  beat  him  at 
that.  If  he  won  't  play  again,  try  your  hand  at  bargaining 
against  your  blacks  ;  offer  him  two  to  one." 

Thus  counselled  by  the  partner  of  his  bosom,  the  black 
sheik,  instead  of  bidding  the  saleik  ahum  to  his  Arab  con- 
frere, raised  his  voice  aloud,  and  demanded  from  the  latte»  a 
parley  upon  business  of  importance. 


CHAPTER     XLII. 

THE    TKIO    STAKED. 

THE  parley  that  followed  was  of  course  unintelligible 
to  our  adventurers,  the  Boy  Slaves. 

But  although  they  did  not  understand  the  words  that 
were  exchanged  between  the  two  sheiks,  they  were  not 
without  having  a  conjecture  as  to  their  import.  The  ges- 
tures made  by  the  two  men,  and  their  looks  cast  frequently 
towards  themselves,  led  them  to  believe  that  the  conversa- 
tion related  to  their  transference  from  one  to  the  otlier. 

Tliere  was  not  much  to  choose  between  the  two  masters. 
Both  api)eared  to  be  unfeeling  savages,  and  so  far  had 
treated  their  captives  with  much  cruelty.  They  could  only 
hope,  in  case  of  a  transfer  taking  place,  that  it  would  not  be 
partial,  but  would  extend  to  the  trio,  and  that  they  would 
be  kept  togetlier.  Thoy  had  been  already  aware  that  old 
Bill  was  to  bo  parti'd  *hnn  them,  and  this  had  caused  lh(;iu 


THE  TEIO   STAKED.  139 

a  painful  feeling ;  but  to  be  themselves  sepaiAtecl,  per- 
haps never  to  meet  again,  was  a  thought  still  more  dis- 
tressing. 

The  three  youths  had  long  been  shipmates,  —  ever  since 
entering  the  naval  service  of  their  country.  Thoy  had  be- 
come fast  friends  ;  and  believed  that  whatever  might  be  the 
fate  before  them,  they  could  better  bear  it  in  each  other's 
company.  Companionship  would  at  least  enable  them  to 
cheer  one  another  ;  mutual  sympatliy  would,  to  some  extent, 
alleviate  the  hardest  lot ;  while  alone,  and  under  such  cruel 
taskmasters,  the  prospect  was  ghiomy  in  the  extreme. 

With  feelings  of  keen  anxiety,  therefore,  did  tliey  listen 
to  the  palaver,  and  watch  the  countenances  of  their  captors. 

After  a  full  half-hour  spent  in  loud  talking  and  gesticulat- 
ing, some  arrangement  appeared  to  have  been  arrived  at  be- 
tween the  two  sheiks.  Those  most  interested  in  it  could 
only  guess  what  it  was  by  what  followed. 

Silence  having  been  partially  restored,  the  old  Arab  was 
seen  to  step  up  to  the  spot  where  the  slaves  of  the  black 
sheik  were  assembled ;  and,  after  carefully  scrutinizing  them, 
pick  out  three  of  the  stoutest,  plumpest,  and  healthiest  young 
negroes  in  the  gang.  These  were  separated  from  the  others, 
and  placed  on  the  plain  some  distance  apart. 

"  We  're  to  be  exchanged,"  muttered  Teience,  "  we  're  to 
belong  to  the  ugly  black  nagur.  Well,  perhaps  it 's  better 
We  '11  be  with  old  Bill." 

*'  Stay  a  wee,"  said  Colin ;  "  there  's  something  more  to 
••ome  yet,  I  think." 

The  black  sheik  at  this  moment  coming  up,  mterruptcd 
the  cotiversation  of  tlie  captives. 

What  was  he  going  to  do  ?  Take  them  with  him,  they 
supposed.  The  old  Arab  had  himself  If^d  out  the  three 
young  "  darkies " ;  and  the  black  sheik  was  about  to  act 
in  like  manner  with  the  trio  of  white  captives. 

So  reasoned  they  ;  and,  as  it  was  »  matter  of  indilTerencg 


140  THE  BOY   SLA\T;S. 

to  them  with  wliich  they  went,  they  would  offer  no  oi)p» 
sitiou. 

To  their  chagrin,  however,  instead  of  all  three,  only  one 
of  them  was  led  off;  the  othe"  two  being  commanded  by  ^eS' 
tures  to  keep  their  ground. 

It  was  O'Connor  to  whom  this  partiality  was  shown  r  tha 
black  sheik  having  selected  him  after  a  short  while  sp«nt  ik 
scrutinizing  and  comparing  the  three.  The  Irish  youth  waa 
of  stouter  build  than  either  of  his  shipmates  ;  and  this,  per- 
haps, guided  the  black  sheik  in  making  his  choice.  By  all 
appearances,  the  conditions  of  the  exchange  were  to  be  dif- 
ferent from  what  our  adventurers  had  anticipated.  It  was 
not  to  be  man  for  man,  or  boy  for  boy  ;  but  three  for  one,  — 
three  blacks  to  a  white. 

This  was,  in  reality,  the  terms  that  had  been  agreed  up- 
on. The  avaricious  old  Arab,  not  caring  very  much  to  part 
with  his  share  of  the  spoil,  would  not  take  less  than  three 
to  one ;  and  to  this  the  black  sheik,  after  long  and  loud  bar- 
gaining, had  consented. 

Terence  was  led  up,  and  placed  alongside  the  three 
young  darkies,  who,  instead  of  taking  things  as  seriously  as 
he,  were  exhibiting  their  ivories  in  broad  grins  of  laughter, 
as  if  the  disposal  of  their  persons  was  an  affair  to  be  treated 
only  as  a  joke  ! 

Our  adventurers  were  now  apprehensive  that  they  were 
to  be  separated.  Their  only  hope  was  that  the  bargaining 
would  not  end  there  ;  but  would  extend  to  a  further  exchange 
of  six  blacks  for  the  two  remaining  whites. 

Their  conjectures  were  interrupted  by  their  seeing  that 
the  "  swop  "  was  not  yet  considered  complete. 

"What  followed,  in  fact,  showed  them  that  it  was  not  a 
regular  trade  at  all ;  but  a  little  bit  of  gambling  between  the 
two  sheiks,  in  which  Terence  and  the  three  young  blacksi 
were  to  be  the  respective  stakes. 

Old  Bill  was  able  to  explain  the  proceedings,  from  his  ex- 


THE  TRIO   STAKED.  141 

perieiLce  of  the  preceding  night;  and  as  he  saw  the  two 
Bheiks  repair  to  the  place  where  bis  own  proprietorship  had 
been  decided,  he  cried  out :  — 

"  Yere  goin'  to  be  gambled  for,  Masther  Terry  !  Och ! 
ye'll  be  along  wid  me, — for  the  black  can  bate  the  owld 
Arab  at  that  game,  all  hollow." 

The  holes  in  which  the  helga  had  been  played  on  the  pre- 
ceding night  were  now  resorted  to.  The  proper  number  of 
dung  pellets  were  procured,  and  the  game  proceeded. 

It  ended  as  the  old  man-o'-war's-man.  had  prognosticated, 
by  the  black  sheik  becoming  the  winner  and  owner  of  Ter- 
ence O'Connor. 

The  Arab  appeared  sadly  chagrined,  and  by  the  way  in 
which  he  strutted  and  stormed  over  the  ground,  it  was  evi- 
dent he  would  not  rest  satisfied  with  his  loss.  When  did 
gamester  ever  leave  gaming-table  so  long  as  a  stake  was  left 
him  to  continue  the  play  ? 

Two  of  the  midshipmen  still  belonged  to  the  old  sheik. 
With  these  he  might  obtain  a  revanche.  He  made  the  trial. 
He  was  unfortunate,  as  before.  Either  the  luck  was  against 
him,  or  he  was  no  match  at  "  desert  di-aughts  "  for  hia  sable 
antagonist. 

It  ended  in  the  black  sheik  becoramg  the  owner  of  the 
three  midshipmen,  who,  restored  to  the  companionship  of 
Sailor  Bill,  in  less  than  twenty  minutes  after  the  conclusion 
of  the  game,  were  trudging  it  across  the  desert  in  the  di 
rectioc  cf  Timbuctoo! 


142  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 


IN  their  journey  over  the  sea  of  sand,  our  four  adven- 
turers formed  part  of  a  company  of  sixteen  men  and 
women,  along  with  six  or  seven  children. 

All  were  the  property  of  one  man,  —  the  huge  and  dusky 
sheik  who  had  won  Sailor  Bill  and  the  three  middies  at 
"  desert  draughts." 

It  soon  became  known  to  his  white  captives  that  his  name 
was  Golah,  a  name  which  Terence  suggested  might  probably 
be  an  African  abbreviation  of  the  ancient  name  of  Goliah. 

Golah  was  certainly  a  great  man,  —  not  in  bone  and  flesh 
alone,  but  in  intellect  as  well. 

We  do  not  claim  for  him  the  gigantic  mind  that  by  arrang- 
ing a  few  figures  and  symbols,  by  the  light  of  a  lamp  in  a 
garret,  could  discover  a  new  planet  in  the  solar  system,  and 
give  its  dimensions,  weight,  and  distance  from  the  dome  of 
St.  Paul's.  Neither  do  we  claim  that  the  power  of  his  in- 
tellect, if  put  forth  in  a  storm  of  eloquence,  could  move  the 
masses  of  his  fellow-creatures,  as  a  hurricane  stirs  up  the 
waters  of  the  sea  ;  yet  for  all  this  Golah  had  a  great  intel- 
lect. He  was  born  to  rule,  and  not  a  particle  of  all  the  pro- 
pensities and  sentiments  constituting  his  mind  was  ever  in 
tended  to  yield  to  the  will  of  another. 

The  cunning  old  sheik,  who  had  the  first  claim  to  the 
three  mids,  had  been  anxious  to  retain  tliem ;  but  they  were 
also  v/anted  by  Golah,  and  the  Arab  was  compelled  to  give 
them  up,  after  having  been  fairly  beaten  at  the  game  ;  part- 
ing witli  his -sable  competitor  in  a  mood  that  was  anything 
but  a_greeal)le. 

Tlie  black  sheik  had  three  wives,  all  of  whom  possessed 
the  gift  of  eloquence  in  a  high  degree. 


GOLAH.  143 

For  all  ihiis  a  simple  glance  from  him  was  enough  to  stop 
Any  one  of  them  in  the  middle  of  a  monosyllable. 

Even  Fatima,  the  favorite,  owed  much  of  her  influence  to 
the  ability  she  displayed  in  studying  her  lord's  wishes  to  the. 
neglect  of  her  own. 

Golah  had  seven  camels,  four  of  whicli  were  required  foi 
carrying  himself  and  his  wives,  with  their  children,  trap- 
pings, tent  utensils,  and  tenis. 

The  three  other  camels  were  lader  with  the  spoils  which 
had  been  collected  from  the  wreck. 

Twelve  of  the  sixteen  adults  in  the  company  were  com* 
pelled  to  walk,  being  forced  to  keep  up  with  the  camels  the 
best  way  tliey  could. 

One  of  these  was  Golah's  son,  a  youth  about  eighteen 
years  of  age.  He  was  armed  with  a  long  INIoorish  musket, 
a  heavy  Spanish  sword,  and  the  dirk  that  had  been  taken 
from  Colin. 

He  was  the  principal  guard  over  the  slaves,  in  which  duty 
he  was  assisted  by  another  youth,  whom  our  adventurers 
afterwards  learnt  was  a  brother  of  one  of  Golah's  wives. 

This  second  youth  was  armed  with  a  musket  and  scimitar, 
and  botli  he  and  Golah's  son  seemed  to  tliink  that  their  lives 
depended  on  keeping  a  constant  watch  over  the  ten  slaves  ; 
for  there  were  six  others  besides  Sailor  Bill  and  his  young 
companions.  They  had  all  been  captured,  purchased,  or 
won  at  play,  during  Golah's  present  expedition,  and  were 
now  on  the  way  to  some  southern  market. 

Two  of  the  six  were  pronounced  by  Sailor  Bill  to  be 
Kroomen, — a  race  of  Africans  with  whose  appearance  he 
was  somewhat  familiar,  having  often  seen  them  acting  as 
Bailors  m  ships  coming  from  the  African  coast. 

The  other  slaves  were  much  lighter  in  complexion,  and 
by  the  old  man-o'-war's-man  were  called  "  Portugee  blacks." 
All  had  the  appearance  of  having  spent  some  time  in  bond- 
age on  the  great  Saara. 


144  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

On  the  first  day  of  their  journey  the  white  captives  had 
learnt  the  relations  existing  between  the  majority  of  the 
company  and  the  chii-f  Golah ;  and  each  of  them  felt  shame 
as  well  as  indignation  at  the  humiliating  position  in  which 
he  was  placed. 

Those  feelings  were  partly  excited  and  greatly  strength- 
ened by  hunger  and  thirst,  as  well  as  by  the  painful  toil  they 
had  to  undergo  in  dragging  themselves  over  the  sandy  plain 
beneath  a  scorching  sun. 

"  I  have  had  enough  of  this,"  said  Harry  Blount  to  hia 
companions.  "  We  might  be  able  to  stand  it  several  days 
longer,  but  I  've  no  curiosity  to  learn  whether  we  can  oi 
not." 

"  Go  on  !  you  are  thinking  and  speaking  for  me,  Harry,'' 
said  Terence. 

"There  are  four  of  us,"  continued  Harry,  —  "four  of 
that  nation  whose  people  boast  they  never  will  he  slaves  ;  be- 
sides, there  are  six  others,  who  are  our  fellow-bondsmen. 
They  're  not  much  to  look  at,  but  still  they  might  count  for 
something  in  a  row.  Shall  we  four  British  tars,  belong  to 
a  party  of  ten,  —  all  enslaved  by  three  men,  —  black  men 
at  that?" 

"  That 's  just  what  I  've  been  thinking  about  for  the  last 
hour  or  two,"  said  Terence.  "  If  we  don't  kill  old  Golah, 
and  ride  off  with  his  camels,  we  deserve  to  pass  every  day 
of  our  lives  as  we  're  doing  this  one  —  in  slavery." 

'♦Just  say  the  word,  —  when  and  how,"  cried  Harry 
*'  I  'm  waiting.  There  are  seven  camels.  Let  us  each  take 
one  ;  but  before  we  go  we  must  eat  and  drink  the  other  throe, 
I  'm  starving." 

"  Pitch  on  a  plan,  and  I  '11  pitch  into  it,"  rejoined  Terence. 
"I'm  ready  for  anything,  —  from  pitch  and  toss  up  to  man- 
Blaughter." 

"  Stay,  Master  Terence,"  interrupted  the  old  sailor.  "  Av 
eoorse  ye  are  aither  wantiu'  to  do  soinethin',  au'  thin  to  think 


fiOLAH.  143 

oftherwards  why  ye  did  it.  Aitj,  my  lad,  yer  half  out  o 
yer  mind.  Master  Colin  be  the  only  yin  o'  ye  that  keeps 
his  seven  senses  about  him.  Suppose  all  av  ye,  that  the 
big  cliief  was  dead,  an'  that  his  son  was  not  alive,  and  that 
the  other  nager  was  a  ristin'  quietly  wid  his  black  heela 
turned  from  the  place  where  the  daisies  bought  to  grow,  — 
what  should  we  do  thin  ?  We  'ave  neyther  chart  nor  com- 
pass. We  could'ner  mak  oot  our  reckonin'.  Don't  ye  see  a 
voyage  here  is  just  like  one  at  sea,  only  it  be  just  the  re- 
vurse.  When  men  are  starvin'  at  sea,  they  want  to  find 
land,  but  when  they  are  starvin'  in  the  desert  they  want  to 
find  water.  The  big  nager,  our  captain,  can  navigate  this 
sea  in  safety,  —  we  can't.  We  must  let  him  take  us  to  some 
port  and  then  do  the  best  we  can  to  escape  from  liim." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  said  Colin,  "  in  thinking  that  we 
might  be  unable  to  find  our  way  from  one  watering-place  to 
another ;  but  it  is  well  for  us  to  calculate  all  the  chances. 
After  reaching  some  port,  as  you  call  it,  may  we  not  find 
oui'selves  in  a  position  more  difficult  to  escape  from,  —  where 
we  will  have  to  contend  with  a  hundred  or  more  of  these 
negro  brutes  in  place  of  only  three  ?  " 

"  That 's  vary  likely,"  answered  the  sailor ;  "  but  they  're 
only  men,  and  we  'av  a  chance  of  beatin'  'em.  We  may 
fight  with  men,  and  conquer  'em,  an'  we  may  fight  with  wa- 
ter an'  conquer  that ;  but  when  we  fight  against  no  water 
that  will  conquer  us.     Natur  is  sure  to  win." 

"  Bdl  's  right  there,"  said  Terence,  "  and  I  feel  that  Nature 
is  getting  the  best  of  me  already." 

While  they  were  holding  this"  conversation,  they  noticed 
that  one  of  the  Krooraen  kept  near  them,  and  seemed  lis- 
tening to  all  that  was  said.  His  sparkling  eyes  betrayed  the 
greatest  interest. 

"  Do  you  understand  us  ?  "  asked  old  Bill,  turning  sharply 
towai'ds  the  African,  and  speaking  in  an  angry  tone. 

"  Yus,  sa,  —  a  lilly  bit,"  answered  the  Krooman,  without 


146  THE  150T  SLAVES. 

Beeming  to  notice  the  unpleasant  manner  in  which  the  qu<» 
tion  had  been  put 

"  And  what  are  you  listening  for  ?  " 

"  To  hear  A\hat  you  tell  um.  I  like  go  in  Ingleesh  ship. 
You  talk  good  for  me.     I  go  long  with  you." 

With  some  difficulty  the  sailor  and  his  companions  could 
comprehend  the  Krooman's  gibberish.  They  managed  to 
learn  from  him  that  he  had  once  been  in  an  English  ship, 
and  had  made  a  voyage  along  the  African  coast,  trading  for 
palm-oil.  While  on  board  he  had  picked  up  a  smattering 
of  English.  He  was  afterwards  shipwrecked  in  a  Portu- 
guese brig.  Cast  away  on  the  shores  of  the  Saara,  just  as 
our  adventurers  had  been,  and  had  passed  four  years  in  the 
desert,  —  a  slave  to  its  denizens. 

He  gratified  our  adventurers  by  telling  them  that  they 
were  in  no  danger  of  having  to  endure  a  prolonged  period  of 
captivity,  as  they  would  soon  be  sold  into  liberty,  instead  of 
slavery.  Golab  could  not  afford  to  keep  slaves ;  and  waa 
only  a  kidnapper  and  dealer  in  the  article.  He  would  sell 
them  to  the  highest  bidder,  and  that  would  be  some  English 
consul  on  the  coast. 

The  Krooman  said  there  was  no  such  hope  for  him  and 
his  companions,  for  their  country  did  not  redeem  its  subjects 
fi'om  slavery. 

Wlaen  he  saw  that  Golah  had  obtained  some  English 
prisoners,  he  had  been  cheered  with  the  hope  that  he  might 
be  redeemed  along  with  them,  as  an  English  subject,  to 
which  right  he  had  some  claim  from  having  served  on  an 
English  ship  ! 

During  the  day  the  black  slaves  —  well  knowing  the  duty 
they  were  expected  to  perform,  had  been  gathering  piecei 
of  dried  camels'  dung  along  the  way ;  this  was  to  supply 
fuel  for  the  fire  of  the  douar  at  night. 

Soon  after  sunset  Golah  ordered  a  halt,  when  the  cameli 
were  unload^^d  and  the  tents  set  up. 


A  DAY   OF   AGONY.  147 

At>out  0)ie  quarter  the  quantity  of  sangleh  that  each  re- 
quired, was  then  served  out  to  the  slaves  for  their  dinner, 
and  as  they  had  eaten  nothing  since  morning,  this  article  of 
focd  appeared  to  have  greatly  improved,  both  in  appearance 
and  flavor.  To  the  palate  of  our  adventurers  it  seemed  de- 
licious. 

Golah,  after  examining  his  human  property,  and  evidently 
satisfied  with  tho  condition  of  all,  retired  to  his  tent ;  from 
which  soon  after  issued  sounds  that  resembled  a  distant 
thunder-storm. 

The  black  sheik  was  snorfng ! 

The  two  young  men  —  his  son  and  brother-in-law  —  re- 
lieved each  other  during  the  night  in  keeping  watch  over 
the  slaves. 

Their  vigil  was  altogether  unnecessary.  Weak,  and  ex- 
hausted with  hunger  and  fatigue,  the  thoughts  of  the  cap- 
tives were  not  of  the  future,  but  of  present  repose ;  which 
was  eagerly  sought,  and  readily  found,  by  all  four  of  them 


CHAPTER    XLIV. 

A    DAT    OF   AGONY. 

AN  hour  before  sunrLse  the  next  morning,  the  slaves 
were  grven  some  clieni  to  drink,  and  then  started  on 
their  journey. 

Tlic  sun,  as  it  soared  up  into  a  cloudless  sky,  shot  forth 
its  rays  much  warmer  than  upon  the  day  before,  while  not  a 
breath  of  air  fanned  the  sterile  plain.  The  atmosphere  was 
as  hot  and  motionless  as  the  sands  under  their  feet.  They 
were  no  longer  hungry.  Thiret  —  raging,  burning  thirst  — 
extinguished  or  deadened  every  other  sensation. 


148  THE  BOY   SLAVES 

Streams  of  perspiration  poared  from  their  bodies,  as  they 
etruggled  through  the  yielding  sand;  yet,  with  ail  thif 
moisture  streaming  from  every  pore,  their  throats,  tongues, 
and  lipi  became  so  parched  that  any  attempt  on  their  part 
to  bold  :onverse  only  resulted  in  producing  a  series  of  sounds 
that  resembled  a  death-rattle. 

Golah,  with  his  family,  rode  in  the  advance,  and  seemed 
not  to  give  himself  any  concern  whether  he  was  followed  by 
others  or  not.  His  two  relatives  brought  up  the  rear  of  the 
l-ajila,  and  any  of  the  slaves  exhibiting  a  disposition  to  lag 
behind  was  admonished  to  move  on  with  blows  administered 
by  a  thick  stick. 

"  Tell  tliem  I  must  have  water  or  die,"  muttered  Harry 
to  the  Krooman  in  a  hoarse  whisper.  "  I  am  worth  money, 
and  if  old  Golah  lets  me  die  for  want  of  a  drop  of  water, 
he  's  a  fool." 

The  Krooman  refused  to  make  the  communication  — which 
he  declared  would  only  result  in  bringing  ill  treatment  upon 
himself. 

Colin  appealed  to  Golah's  son,  and  by  signs  gave  him  to 
understand  that  they  must  have  water..  The  young  black,  in 
answer,  simply  condescended  to  sneer  at  him.  He  was  not 
suffering  himself,  and  could  have  no  sympathy  for  another. 

The  hides  of  the  blacks,  besmeared  with  oil,  seemed  to  re- 
pel the  scorching  beams  of  the  sun  ;  and  years  of  continual 
practice  had  no  doubt  inured  them  to  the  endurance  of  hun- 
ger and  thirst  to  a  surprising  degree.  To  their  white  fel- 
low-captives they  appeared  more  like  huge  reptiles  than 
himian  beings. 

The  sand  along  the  route  on  this,  the  second  day,  was  less 
compact  than  before,  and  the  task  of  leg-lit\ing,  i)roduceu  a 
weariness  such  as  might  have  aiisen  from  the  hardest  worli. 
Added  to  the  agony  of  their  thirst,  the  white  sufferers  dwelt 
frequently  on  thoughts  of  death  —  that  great  antidote  to  hu- 
man miseries ;  yet  so  cousti-ained  were  theii'  actions  by  force 


A  DAY   OF  AGONY.  149 

of  ciicumstances,  that  only  by  following  their  leader  and 
owner,  Golah,  could  they  hope  to  find  relief. 

Had  he  allowed  tb^m  to  turn  back  to  the  coast,  whence 
they  had  started,  or  even  to  repose  for  a  few  hours  on  the 
way,  they  could  not  have  done  so.  They  were  compelled 
to  move  on,  by  a  power  that  could  not  be  resisted. 

That  power  was  Hope,  —  the  hope  of  obtaining  seme 
sangleh  and  a  little  dirty  water. 

To  turn  back,  or  to  linger  behind,  would  bring  them  noth- 
ing but  more  suffering,  —  perhaps  death  itself. 

A  man  intent  on  dying  may  throw  himself  into  the  water 
to  get  drowned,  and  then  find  himself  involuntarily  strug- 
ghng  to  escape  from  the  death  he  has  courted. 

The  same  irresistible  antipathy  to  death  compelled  his 
white  captives  to  follow  the  black  sheik. 

They  were  unwilling  to  die,  —  not  for  the  sole  reason  that 
they  had  homes  and  friends  they  wished  to  see  again,  —  not 
solely  for  that  innate  love  of  life,  implanted  by  Nature  in 
the  breasts  of  all;  but  there  was  a  pleasure  which  they 
desired  to  experience  once  more,  —  aye,  yearned  to  indulge 
in  it:  the  pleasure  of  quenching  their  terrible  thirst.  To 
gratify  this  pleasure  they  must  follow  Golah. 

One  of  Golah's  wives  had  three  children;  and,  as  each 
wife  was  obliged  to  look  after  her  own  offspring,  this  woman 
could  not  pursue  her  journey  without  a  little  more  trouble 
than  her  less  favored  companions. 

The  eldest  of  her  children  was  too  young  to  walk  a  long 
distance ;  and,  most  of  the  time,  was  carried  under  her  care 
upon  the  maherry.  Having  her  three  restless  imps,  to  keep 
balanced  upon  the  back  of  the  camel,  requiring  her  constant 
vigilance  to  prevent  them  from  falling  off,  she  found  her 
hands  full  enough.  It  was  a  sort  of  travelling  that  did  not 
at  all  suit  her ;  and  she  had  been  casting  about  for  some  way 
of  being  reheved  from  at  least  a  portion  of  her  trouble. 

The  plan  she  devised  was  to  compel  some  one  of  th^j 


150  THE  BOY  SLAVES 

slaves  to  carry  her  eldest  child,  a  boy  about  foar  years  ol 
age. 

Colin  was  the  victim  selected  for  this  dutj.  All  the  at 
tempts  made  by  the  young  Scotchman  to  avoid  the  responsi- 
bilities thus  imposed  upon  him  proved  vain.  The  woman 
was  resolute,  and  Colin  had  to  yield ;  although  he  resisted 
until  she  threatened  to  call  Golah  to  her  assistance. 

This  argument  was  conclusive ;  and  the  young  darkey 
was  placed  upon  Colin's  shoulders,  with  its  legs  around  hia 
ueck,  and  one  of  its  hands  grasping  him  tightly  by  the  hair. 

When  this  arrangement  was  completed,  night  had  drawn 
near ;  and  the  two  young  men  who  acted  as  guards  hastened 
forward  to  select  a  place  for  the  douar. 

There  was  no  danger  of  any  of  the  slaves  making  an  at- 
tempt to  escape ;  for  all  were  too  anxious  to  receive  the 
small  quantity  of  food  that  was  to  be  allowed  them  at  the 
night  halt. 

Encumbered  with  the  "piccaninny,"  and  wearied  with  the 
long,  ceaseless  struggle  through  the  sand,  Colin  lingered  be- 
hind his  companions.  The  mother  of  the  child,  apparently 
attentive  to  the  welfare  of  her  first-born,  checked  the  pro- 
gress of  her  maherry,  and  rode  back  to  him. 

After  the  camels  had  been  unloaded,  and  the  tents  pitched, 
Golah  ••superintended  the  serving  out  of  their  suppers,  which 
consisted  only  of  sangleh.  The  quantity  was  even  less  than 
had  been  given  the  evening  before ;  but  it  was  devoured  by 
the  white  captives  with  a  pleasure  none  of  them  had  hith- 
erto experienced. 

Sailor  Bill  declared  that  the  brief  time  in  which  he  was 
employed  in  consuming  the  few  mouthfuls  allowed  him,  wag 
a  moment  of  enjoyment  that  repaid  him  for  all  the  sufferingi 
of  the  day. 

"Ah,  Master  Arry  ! "  said  he,  "  it 's  only  now  we  are  larn- 
in'  to  live,  although  I  did  think,  one  time  to-day,  we  was  just 
larnin'  to  die.    I  never  mean  to  eat  i*§ain  until  I  'm  hungry 


A  DAY   OF  AGONY.  151 

Blaster  Terry,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  young  L-ishman, 
"  is  n't  this  foiue  livin'  intirely  ?  and  are  yez  not  afther  beia' 
happy  ?  " 

"  'T  is  the  most  delicious  food  man  ever  ate,"  answered 
Terence,  "  and  the  only  fault  I  can  find  is  that  there  is  not 
enough  of  it." 

"  Then  you  may  have  what  is  left  of  mine,"  said  Colin, 
"  for  I  can't  say  that  I  fancy  it." 

Harry,  Terence,  and  the  sailor  gazed  at  the  young  Scotch- 
man with  expressions  of  mingled  alarm  and  surjjrise.  Small 
as  had  been  the  amount  of  sangleh  with  which  Colin  had 
been  served,  he  had  not  eaten  more  than  one  half  of  it. 

"  Why,  puir  Maister  Colly,  what  is  wrang  wi'  ye  ?  "  ex- 
claimed Bill,  in  a  tone  expressing  fear  and  pity.  "  If  ye 
d'.nna  eat,  mon,  ye  '11  dee." 

"  I  'm  quite  well,"  answered  Colin,  "  but  I  have  bad  plenty, 
and  any  of  you  can  take  what  is  left." 

Though  the  hunger  of  Colin's  three  companions  was  not 
half  satisfied,  they  all  refused  to  finish  the  remainder  of  his 
supper,  hoping  that  he  might  soon  find  his  appetite,  and  eat 
it  himself 

The  pleasure  they  had  enjoyed  in  eating  the  small  allow- 
ance given  them  rendered  it  difii:;ult  for  them  to  account  for 
the  conduct  of  their  companion.  His  abstemiousness  caused 
them  uneasiness,  even  alanu. 


152  THE  BOf  SLAVES 

CHAPTER    XLV. 

COLIN   IN   LUCK. 

rr^HE  next  morning,  when  the  caravan  started,  Colin 
I  again  had  the  care  of  the  young  black.  He  did  not 
always  have  to  carry  him,  as  part  of  the  time  the  boy  trotted 
along  by  his  side. 

During  the  fore-part  of  the  day,  the  young  Scotchman 
with  his  charge  easily  kept  up  with  his  companions,  and 
some  of  the  time  might  be  seen  a  little  in  advance  of  them. 
His  kind  attentions  to  the  boy  were  observed  by  Golah,  who 
showed  some  sign  of  human  feeling,  by  exhibiting  a  contor- 
tion of  his  features  intended  for  a  smile. 

Towards  noon,  Colin  appeared  to  become  fatigued  with 
the  toil  of  the  journey,  and  then  fell  back  to  the  rear,  as  he 
had  done  the  evening  before.  Again  the  anxious  mother, 
ever  mindful  of  the  welfare  of  her  offspring,  was  seen  to 
check  her  camel,  and  wait  until  Colin  and  the  boy  overtook 
her. 

Sailor  Bill  had  been  much  surprised  at  Colin's  conduct 
the  evening  before,  especially  at  the  patient  manner  in 
which  the  youth  had  submitted  to  the  task  of  looking  after 
the  child.  There  was  a  mystery  in  the  young  Scotchman's 
beliavior  he  could  not  compreliend,  —  a  mystery  that  soon 
became  more  profound.  It  had  also  attracted  the  attention 
of  Harry  and  Terence,  notwithstanding  the  many  unjjleas- 
ant  circumstances  of  the  journey  calculated  to  abstract  their 
tlioughts  from  him  and  his  charge. 

Shortly  after  noon,  the  woman  was  seen  driving  Colin  up 
to  the  kafila,  urging  him  forward  with  loud  screams,  and 
blows  administered  with  the  knotted  end  of  the  rope  by 
which  she  guided  her  maherry. 

After  p  time  Golah,  aj^parently  annoyed  by  her  ehriU, 


COLIN  IN  LUCK.  153 

icctlding  voice,  ordered  her  to  desist,  and  permit  the  slave  to 
continue  his  journey  in  peace. 

Although  unable  to  understand  the  me&ning  of  her  wnrds, 
Colin  must  have  known  that  the  woman  was  not  using  terms 
of  endearment. 

The  screaming,  angry  tone,  and  the  blows  of  the  rope 
might  have  told  him  tliis ;  and  yet  he  submitted  to  her  re- 
proaches and  chastisements  with  a  meekness  and  a  philo- 
Bophic  resignation  wliich  surprised  his  companions. 

When  his  thoughts  were  not  too  much  absorbed  by  pain- 
ful reveries  over  the  desire  for  food  and  water,  Harry  en- 
deavored to  converse  with  the  Krooman  already  mentioned. 
He  now  applied  to  the  man  for  an  interpretation  of  the 
words  so  loudly  vociferated  by  the  angry  negress,  and 
launched  upon  the  head  of  the  patient  young  Scotchman. 

The  Krooman  said  that  she  had  called  the  lad  a  lazy  pig, 
a  Christian  dog,  and  an  unbelieving  fool;  and  that  she 
threatened  to  kill  him  unless  he  kept  up  with  the  hajila. 

On  the  third  day  of  their  journeying,  it  chanced  not  to  be 
quite  so  hot  as  on  the  one  preceding  it ;  and  consequently 
the  sufferings  of  the  slaves,  especially  from  thirst,  were  some- 
what less  severe. 

"I  shall  never  endure  such  agony  again,"  ?aid  Harry, 
speaking  of  his  experience  of  the  previous  day.  "  Perhaps 
I  may  die  for  the  want  of  water,  and  on  this  desert ;  but  I 
can  never  suffer  so  much  real  pain  a  second  time." 

"'Ow  is  that,  Master  Arry  ?"  asked  Bill. 

"  Because  I  cannot  forget,  after  my  experience  of  last 
night,  that  the  greater  the  desire  for  water,  the  more  pleas- 
ure there  is  in  gratifying  it ;  and  the  anticipation  of  such  hap- 
piness will  go  far  to  alleviate  anything  I  nif  y  hereafter  feel." 

"  Well,  there  be  summat  in  that,  for  sart  ti,"  answered  the 
Bailor,  "  for  I  can't  'elp  thinkin'  about  'ow  nice  our  supper 
was  last  night,  and  only  'ope  it  will   taste  as  well  to-nighl 

again." 

7* 


154  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

"  We  have  learnt  something  new,"  said  Terence,  "  new,  at 
least,  to  ine ;  and  I  shall  know  how  to  live  when  I  get 
wliere  there  is  plenty.  Heretofore  I  have  been  Hke  a  child 
—  eating  and  drinking  half  my  time,  not  because  I  required 
it,  but  because  I  knew  no  better.  There  is  Colly,  now,  he 
don't  seem  to  appreciate  the  beauty  of  this  Arabian  style  of 
living ;  or  he  may  understand  it  better  than  we.  Perhaps 
he  is  waiting  until  he  acquires  a  better  appetite,  so  that  he 
may  have  all  the  more  pleasure  in  gratifying  it.  Whei-e  is 
he  now?" 

They  all  looked  about.  They  saw  that  Colin  had  once 
more  fallen  behind ;  and  that  the  mother  of  the  child  was 
again  waiting  for  liim. 

Harry  and  Terence  walked  on,  expecting  that  they  would 
soon  see  their  companion  rudely  driven  up  by  the  angry 
Degress. 

Sailor  Bill  stopped,  as  though  he  was  interested  in  being 
a  witness  to  the  scene  thus  anticipated. 

In  a  few  minutes  after,  the  young  Scotchman,  with  the 
child,  was  hurried  forward  by  the  enraged  hag  —  who  once 
more  seemed  in  a  great  rage  at  his  inability  or  unwillingness 
to  keep  up  with  the  others. 

"  I  ken  it  'a  noo,"  said  Bill,  after  he  had  stood  for  some 
time  witnessing  the  ill-treatment  heaped  upon  Colin. 

"Oiu-  freen  Colly's  in  luck.  I  've  no  langer  any  wonder 
at  his  taking  a'  this  tribble  wi'  the  blackey  bairn." 

"  AVhat  is  it,  Bill  ?  what  have  you  learnt  now .'' "  asked 
Terence  and  Harry  in  a  l)reath. 

"  I  've  larnt  why  Colly  could  not  eat  ]vs  dinner  yester- 
day." 

"  "Well,  why  was  it  ?  " 

"  I  've  larnt  that  the  nager's  anger  with  Colly  is  all  a 
pretinee,  an'  that  she  's  an  old  she  schemer," 

"  Nonsense,  Bill  ;  that  is  all  a  fancy  of  yours,"'  said  Colin, 
who,  with  the  child  on  his  shouldeJ"s,  was  now  walking  along- 
side his  companions. 


SAILOR   BILL'S  EXPERIMENT.  155 

It  is  110  fancy  of  mine,  mon,"  answered  Bill,  "  but  a  fan- 
cy o'  the  woman  for  a  bra'  fair  luddie.  What  is  it  that  she 
gi  res  you  to  eat,  Maister  Colly  ?  " 

Seeing  that  it  was  idle  to  conceal  his  good  fortjne  anj 
longer,  Colin  now  confessed  it,  —  informing  them  that  the 
woman,  whenever  she  could  do  so  without  being  seen,  had 
given  him  a  handful  of  dried  figs,  with  a  drink  of  camel's 
milk  from  a  leathern  bottle  which  she  carried  under  her 
sloak. 

Notwithstanding  the  opinion  they  had  just  expressed,  on 
the  enjoyment  attending  prolonged  thirst  and  hunger,  Colin's 
companions  congratulated  him  on  his  good  fortune,  —  one  and 
all  declaring  their  willingness  to  take  charge  of  the  littlo 
darkey,  on  the  condition  of  being  similarly  rewarded. 

They  had  no  suspicion  at  that  moment  that  their  opinions 
might  soon  undergo  a  change  ;  and  that  Colin's  supposed 
good  fortune  would  ere  long  become  a  source  of  much  unea- 
ainess  to  all  of  them. 


CHAPTER    XLVI. 

SAILOR    bill's    experiment. 

THE  afternoon  of  this  day  was  very  warm,  yet  Golah 
rode  on  at  such  a  quick  pace,  that  it  required  the  ut- 
most exertion  of  the  slaves  to  keep  up  with  him. 

This  manner  of  travelling,  under  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  was  required  to  pursue  it,  proved  too  severe  fcr 
Sailor  Bill  to  erdure  with  any  degree  of  patience. 

He  became  unable,  as  he  tliought,  to  walk  any  farther 
or,  if  not  wholly  unable,  he  was  certainly  unwilling,  and  he 
therefore  sat  down. 


156  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

A  heavy  shower  of  blows  produced  no  effect  in  moving 
him  fi-om  the  spot  where  he  had  seated  himself,  and  the  two 
young  men  who  acted  as  guards,  not  knowing  wliat  else  to 
do,  and  liaving  exhausted  all  their  arguments,  accompanied 
by  a  series  of  kicks,  at  length  appealed  to  Golah. 

The  sheik  instantly  turned  his  maherry,  and  rode  back. 

Before  he  had  reached  the  place,  however,  the  three  mids 
had  used  all  their  influence  in  an  endeavor  to  get  tlieir  old 
companion  to  move  on.  Ir  this  they  had  been  joined  by 
the  Krooman,  who  entreated  Bill,  if  he  placed  any  value  ou 
his  life,  to  get  up  before  Golah  should  arrive,  for  he  declared 
the  monster  would  show  liim  no  mercy. 

"For  God's  sake,"  exclaimed  Harry  Blount,  "if  it  ia 
possible  for  you  to  get  up  and  go  a  little  way  farther,  do 

BO." 

"  Try  to  move  on,  man,"  said  Terence,  "  and  we  will  help 
you.  Come,  Bill,  for  the  sake  of  your  friends  try  to  get  up. 
Golah  is  close  by." 

Wliile  thus  speaking,  Terence,  assisted  by  Colin,  took 
hold  of  Bill  and  tried  to  drag  him  to  his  feet ;  but  the  old 
sailor  obstinately  persisted  in  remaining  upon  the  ground. 

"  Perhaps  I  could  walk  on  a  bit  farther,"  said  he,  "  but  I 
won't.  I  've  'ad  enough  on  it.  I  'ra  goin'  to  ride,  and  let 
Golah  walk  awhile.  He 's  better  able  to  do  it  than  I  am. 
Now  don't  you  boys  be  so  foolish  a&  to  get  yersels  into 
trouble  on  my  account.  All  ye  've  got  to  do  is  to  look  on, 
an'  ye  '11  larn  soraethin'.  If  I  've  no  youth  an'  beauty,  like 
Colly,  to  bring  me  good  luck,  I  've  age  and  experience,  and 
I  '11  get  it  by  sehamin'." 

On  reaching  the  place  where  the  sailor  was  sitting,  Golah 
was  informed  of  what  had  caused  the  delay,  and  that  the 
usual  remedy  had  failed  of  effect. 

He  did  not  seem  dis])leased  at  the  communication.  On 
the  contrary,  his  huge  features  bore  an  expi-ession  that  for 
him  might  have  been  considered  pleasant. 


SAILOR  BILL'S  EXPERIMENT.  157 

He  quititly  ordered  the  slave  to  get  up,  and  pursue  hia 
journey. 

The  weary  sailor  had  blistered  feet ;  and,  with  his  strength 
almost  exhausted  by  hunger  and  thirst,  had  reached  the 
pcint  of  desperation.  Moreover,  for  the  benefit  of  himself 
and  his  young  companions,  he  wished  to  try  an  experiment. 

He  told  the  Krooman  to  inform  the  sheik  that  he  would 
go  on,  if  allowed  to  ride  one  of  the  camels. 

"  You  want  me  to  kill  you  ?  "  exclaimed  Golah,  when  this 
communication  was  made  to  him ;  "  you  want  to  cheat  me 
out  of  the  price  I  have  paid  for  you  ;  but  you  shall  not. 
You  must  go  on.     I,  Golah,  have  said  it." 

The  sailor,  in  reply,  swore  there  was  no  possible  chance 
for  them  to  take  him  any  farther,  without  allowing  him  to  ride. 

This  answer  to  the  sheik's  civil  request  was  communicated 
by  the  Krooman  ;  and,  for  a  moment,  Golah  seemed  puz- 
zled as  to  how  he  should  act. 

He  would  not  kill  the  slave  after  saying  that  he  must  go 
on ;  nor  would  he  have  him  carried,  since  the  man  would 
then  gain  his  point. 

He  stood  for  a  minute  meditating  on  what  was  to  be  done. 
Then  a  hideous  smile  stole  over  his  features.  He  had  mas- 
tered the  difficulty. 

Taking  its  halter  from  the  camel,  he  fastened  one  end  of 
it  to  the  saddle,  and  the  other  around  the  wrists  of  the  sailor. 
f*oor  old  Bill  made  resistance  to  being  thus  bound,  but  he 
was  like  an  infont  in  the  powerful  grasp  of  the  black  sheik. 

The  son  and  brother-in-law  of  Golah  stood  by  with  their 
muskets  on  full  cock,  and  the  first  move  any  of  Bill's  com- 
panions could  have  made  to  ast^ist  him,  would  have  been  a 
signal  for  them  to  fire. 

When  the  fastenings  were  completed,  the  sheik  orderec 
his  son  to  lead  the  camel  forward,  and  the  sailor,  suddenly 
jerked  from  his  altitude  of  repose,  was  rudely  dragged  on- 
ward  over  the  sand. 


158  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

"  Y"ou  are  going  now ! "  exclaimed  Golah,  nearly  franti* 
with  delight ;  "  and  we  are  not  carrying  you,  are  we  ?  Nei- 
ther are  you  riding  ?     Bismillah  !  I  am  your  master ! " 

The  torture  of  travelling  in  this  manner  was  too  great  to 
be  long  endured,  and  Bill  had  to  take  to  his  feet  and  walk 
forward  as  before.  He  was  conquered;  but  as  a  punish- 
ment for  tha  trouble  he  had  caused,  the  shiek  kept  him 
towing  at  the  tail  of  the  camel  for  the  remainder  of  that 
day's  journey. 

Any  one  of  the  white  slaves  would  once  have  thought 
that  he  possessed  too  much  spirit  to  allow  himself  or  a  friend 
to  be  subjected  to  such  treatment  as  Bill  had  that  day  en- 
dured. 

None  of  them  was  deficient  in  true  courage ;  yet  the 
proud  spirit,  of  which  each  had  once  thought  himself  pos- 
sessed, was  now  subdued  by  a  power  to  which,  if  it  be  prop- 
erly applied,  all  animate  things  must  yield. 

That  power  was  the  feeling  of  hunger;  and  there  is  no 
creature  so  wild  and  fierce  but  will  tamely  submit  to  the 
dominion  of  the  man  who  commands  it.  It  is  a  power  that 
must  be  used  with  discretion,  or  the  victims  to  it,  urged  by 
desperation,  may  destroy  their  keeper.  Golah  had  the  wis- 
dom to  wield  it  with  effect ;  for  by  it,  with  the  assistance  of 
two  striplings,  he  easily  controlled  those  who,  under  other 
cid-c  HID  stances,  would  have  c' aimed  the  right  to  be  free. 


AN  UNJUST  REWARD.  169 

CHAPTER    XLVII 

AN    UNJUST    REWARD. 

rrillE  next  morning  on  resuming  the  joumey  (5olah  con- 
_i_  descended  to  tell  his  captives  that  tliej  should  reach  a 
well  or  spring  that  afternoon,  and  stay  by  it  for  two  or  three 
days. 

This  news  was  conveyed  to  Harry  by  the  Krooman  ;  and 
all  were  elated  at  the  prospect  of  rest,  with  a  plentiful  sup- 
ply of  water. 

Plarry  had  a  long  conversation  with  the  Krooman  as  they 
were  pursuing  their  route.  The  latter  expressed  his  surprise 
that  the  white  captives  were  so  contented  to  go  on  in  the 
course  in  which  the  sheik  was  conducting  them^ 

This  was  a  subject  about  which  Harry  and  his  companions 
had  given  themselves  no  concern ;  partly  because  that  they 
had  no  idea  that  Golah  was  intending  to  make  a  very  long 
journey,  and  partly  that  they  supposed  his  intentions,  what- 
ever they  were,  could  not  be  changed  by  anything  they 
might  propose. 

The  Krooman  thought  different.  He  told  Harry  that  the 
route  they  were  following,  if  continued,  would  lead  them  far 
into  the  interior  of  the  country  —  probably  to  Timbuctoo ; 
and  that  Golah  should  be  entreated  to  take  them  to  some 
port  on  the  coast,  where  they  might  be  ransomed  by  an 
English  consul. 

Harry  perceived  the  truth  of  these  suggestions;  and, 
After  having  a  conversation  with  his  companions,  it  was  de- 
termined between  them  that  they  should  have  a  talk  w'tb 
Golah  that  very  night. 

The  Krooman  promised  to  act  as  interpreter,  and  to  do 
All  in  his  power  to  favor  their  suit.  He  might  persuade  the 
sheik  to  change  his  destination,  by  telling  him  that  he  woul«' 


160  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

find  a  far  better  market  in  taking  them  to  some  place  whero 
vessels  arrive  and  depart,  than  by  carrying  them  into  the  in- 
terior of  the  country. 

The  man  then  added,  speaking  in  a  mysterious  manner, 
that  there  was  one  more  subject  on  which  he  wished  to  giv6 
them  warning.  When  pressed  to  mention  it,  he  appeared 
reluctant  to  do  so. 

He  was  at  last  prevailed  upon  to  be  more  communicative ; 
when  he  proclaimed  his  opinion,  that  their  companion,  Colin, 
would  never  leave  the  desert. 

*'  Why  is  that  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

"  Bom-by  he  be  kill.     De  sheik  kill  um." 

Although  partly  surmising  his  reasons  for  having  formed 
this  opinion,  Harry  urged  him  to  further  explain  himself. 

"  Ef  Golah  see  de  moder  ob  de  piccaninny  gib  dat  lad  one 
lilly  fig,  —  one  drop  ob  drink,  he  kill  um,  sartin-sure.  I  see, 
one,  two,  —  seb'ral  more  see.  Golah  no  fool.  Bom-by 
be  see  too,  and  kill  um  bof,  —  de  lad  an'  de  piccaninny 
moder." 

Harry  promised  to  warn  his  companion  of  the  danger, 
and  save  him  before  the  suspicions  of  Golah  should  be 
aroused. 

"  No  good,  no  good,"  said  the  Krooman. 

In  explanation  of  this  assertion,  Harry  was  told  that,  should 
the  yo'jng  Scotchman  refuse  any  favor  from  the  woman,  her 
wounded  vanity  would  change  her  liking  to  the  most  bitter 
hatred,  and  she  would  tlien  contrive  to  bring  down  upon  him 
the  anger  of  Golah,  —  an  auger  that  would  certainly  be  fa- 
tal to  its  victim. 

"  Then  what  must  I  do  to  save  him  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

"  Tsotlng,"  answered  the  Krooman.  "  You  noting  can  do. 
Ony  bid  him  be  good  man,  and  talk  much,  —  pray  to  God. 
Golah  wife  lub  him,  and  he  sure  muss  die." 

Harry  informed  the  sailor  and  Terence  of  what  the 
Krooman  had  told  him,  and  the  three  took  counsel  together. 


AN  UNJUST  REWARD.  161 

"  I  believes  as  how  the  darkey  be  right,"  said  Bill.  "  Of 
course,  if  the  swab  Goliarh  larns  as  'ow  one  av  is  wi^es  ha' 
taken  a  fancy  to  Master  Colly,  't  wiU  be  all  up  wi'  the  poor 
lad.  He  will  be  killed,  —  and  mayhap  eaten  too,  for  that 
matter." 

"  Like  enough,"  assented  Terence.  "  And  should  he 
scorn  her  very  particular  attentions,  her  resentment  might 
be  equally  as  dangerous  as  Golah's.  I  fear  poor  Colin  has 
4rifted  into  trouble." 

"What  ye  be  afther  sayin'  about  the  woman,"  said  Bill, 
*^  minds  me  o'  a  little  story  I  wunce  heeard  whin  I  was  a 
boy.  I  read  it  in  a  book  called  the  Bible.  It  was  about  a 
young  man,  somethin'  like  Master  Colly,  barrin'  his  name 
was  Joseph.  A  potter's  wife  tuck  a  fancy  to  him  ;  but  Jo- 
seph, bein'  a  dacent  an'  honest  youngster,  treted  her  wid 
contimpt,  an'  came  to  great  grief  by  doin'  that  same.  Yoa 
must  'ave  read  that  story.  Master  'Arry,"  continued  Bill, 
turning  from  Terence  to  the  young  Englishman,  and  chang- 
ing his  style  of  pronunciation.  "  Did  it  not  'appen  summers 
in  this  part  o'  the  world  ?  Hif  I  remember  rightly,  it  did. 
I  know  't  was  summers  in  furrin  parts." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Harry,  "  that  little  affair  did  happen  in 
this  part  of  the  world,  —  since  it  was  in  Africa,  —  and  our 
comrade  has  a  fair  prospect  of  being  more  unfortunate  than 
Joseph.  In  truth,  I  don't  see  how  we  shall  be  able  to  as- 
sist him." 

"  There  he  is,  about  a  hundred  cable  lengths  astern,"  said 
Bill,  looking  back.  "  And  there  's  the  old  'oman,  too,  look- 
in'  sharp  afther  him,  while  Colly  is  atin'  the  figs  and  drinkin* 
the  camel's  milk  ;  and  while  I  'm  dying  for  a  dhrop  of  that 
same,  old  Goliarh  is  no  doubt  proud  wid  the  great,  care 
she 's  takin'  of  his  child.  Bud  won't  there  be  a  row  when 
he  larns  summat  more  ?     Won't  there.  Master  'Arry?" 

"  There  will,  indeed,"  answered  Harry.  "  CoL'  i  wi-1  soon 
be  up  with  us,  and  we  must  talk  to  him." 

K 


162  TEE   BOY   SLAVES. 

Harry  was  right,  for  Colin  soon  after  overtook  them,  — • 
having  been  driven  up  as  usual  by  the  negress,  who  seemed 
in  great  anger  at  the  trouble  he  was  causing  her. 

"  Colin,"  said  Harry,  when  their  companion  and  the  child 
had  joined  them,  "  you  must  keep  that  woman  away  from 
you.  Her  partiality  for  you  has  already  been  noticed  by 
others.  The  Krooman  has  just  been  telling  us  that  you  will 
not  live  much  longer ;  that  Golah  is  neither  blind  nor  fool- 
ish ;  and  that,  on  the  slightest  suspicion  he  has  of  the  womaii 
showing  you  any  favor,  —  even  to  giving  you  a  fig,  —  he 
will  kill  you." 

"But  what  can  I  do?"  asked  Colin.  "If  the  woman 
should  come  to  you  and  offer  you  a  handful  of  figs  and  a 
drink  of  milk,  could  you  refuse  them  ?  " 

"  No,  I  certainly  could  not.  I  only  wish  such  an  alterna- 
tive would  present  itself;  but  you  must  manage  in  some 
way  or  otlier  to  keep  away  from  her.  You  must  not  linger 
behind,  but  remain  all  the  time  by  us." 

"If  you  knew,"  asked  Colin,  "that  you  could  quench 
your  thirst  by  lagging  a  few  paces  behind,  would  you  not 
do  so?" 

"  That  would  be  a  strong  temptation,  and  I  should  proba- 
bly yield  ;  but  I  tell  you  that  you  are  in  danger." 

Neither  of  Colin's  companions  could  blame  him.  Suffer- 
ing, as  he  was,  from  the  ceaseless  agony  of  hunger  and  thirst^ 
any  indiscretion,  or  even  crime,  seemed  justifiable,  for  the 
sake  of  obtaining  relief. 

The  day  became  hotter  and  hotter,  until  in  the  afternoon 
the  sufferings  of  the  slaves  grew  almost  unendurable.  Sailor 
Bill  appeared  to  be  more  severely  affected  than  any  of  his 
companions.  Ho  had  been  t/ioeking  about  the  woi-ld  for 
many  long  years,  injuring  his  constitution  by  dissipation  and 
exposure  in  many  climes ;  and  the  siege  tliat  thirst  and  hun- 
ger were  now  making  to  destroy  his  strength  became  each 
hour  more  perceptible  in  its  effect. 


AN  UNJUST  REWARD.  163 

By  t\ie  middle  of  the  afternoon  it  was  with  the  utmost 
difficulty  he  could  move  along ;  and  his  tongue  was  so 
parched  that  in  an  attempt  to  speak  he  wholly  failed.  Hia 
hands  were  stretched  forth  towards  Colin ;  who,  since  the 
warning  he  had  received,  had  kept  up  along  with  the  rest. 

Colin  understood  the  signal ;  and  placed  the  boy  on  the 
old  man's  shoulders.  Bill  wished  to  learn  if  the  mothei 
would  reward  him  for  taking  care  of  her  child,  as  she  haa 
his  predecessor  in  the  office.  To  carry  out  the  experiment 
he  allowed  himself  to  be  left  in  the  rear  of  the  caravan. 

Golah's  son  and  the  other  guard  had  noticed  the  old  sail- 
or's suffering  condition,  and  objected  to  his  being  incumbei'ed 
with  the  child.  They  pointed  to  Harry  and  Terence ;  but 
Bill  was  resolute  in  holding  on  to  his  charge ;  and  cursing 
him  for  an  unbelieving  fool,  they  allowed  him  to  have  his 
own  way. 

Not  long  after,  the  mother  of  the  child  was  seen  to  stop 
her  camel,  and  the  three  raids  passed  by  her  unnoticed.  The 
old  sailor  hastened  up  as  fast  as  his  weary  limbs  would  allow 
to  receive  the  hoped-for  reward;  but  the  poor  fellow  was 
doomed  to  a  cruel  disappointment. 

"When  the  woman  perceived  who  had  been  entrusted  with 
the  carrying  of  her  child,  she  pronounced  two  or  three 
phrases  in  a  sharp,  angry  tone.  Understanding  them,  the 
child  dismounted  from  the  sailor's  back  and  ran  with  all 
Bpeed  towards  her. 

Bill's  reward  was  a  storm  of  invectives,  accompanied  by 
a  shower  of  blows  with  the  knotted  end  of  the  halter.  He 
strove  to  avoid  the  punishment  by  increasing  his  speed ;  but 
the  camel  seemed  to  understand  the  relative  distance  that 
Bhould  be  maintained  between  its  rider  and  the  sailor,  so  that 
the  former  might  deliver  and  the  latter  receive  the  blows 
with  the  most  painful  effect.  This  position  it  kept  until  Bill 
had  got  up  to  his  companions ;  his  naked  shoulde  's  bearing 
crimson  evidence  of  the  woman's  ability  in  the  handling  of  a 
rope's  end. 


164  THE  BOY  SLAVES 

As  she  rode  past  Colin,  who  had  again  taken  charge  of 
tlie  child,  slie  gave  the  young  Scotchuian  a  look  that  seemed 
to  say,  "  You  have  betrayed  me  ! "  and  without  waiting  for 
a  look  in  return,  she  passed  on  to  join  her  husband  at  the 
head  of  the  caravan. 

The  black  slaves  appeared  highly  amused  at  the  sailor's 
misfortunes.  The  incident  had  aroused  their  expu-ing  ener- 
gies, and  the  journey  was  pursued  by  them  with  more  ani- 
mation than  ever. 

BUl's  disappointment  was  not  without  some  beneficial 
effect  upon  himself.  He  was  so  much  revived  by  the  beat- 
ing, that  he  soon  after  recovered  his  tongue ;  and  as  he 
shuffled  on  alongside  his  companions,  they  could  hear  him 
muttering  curses,  some  in  good  English,  some  in  bad,  some 
in  a  rich  Irish  brogue,  and  some  in  the  broadest  Scotch. 


CHAPTER    XLVIII. 

THE    WATERLESS    WELL. 

GOLAH  expected  to  reach  the  watering-place  early  in 
the  evening ;  and  all  the  caravan  was  excited  by  the 
anticipation  of  soon  obtaining  a  plentiful  supply  of  water. 

It  was  weU  they  were  inspired  by  this  hope.  But  for  that, 
\ong  before  the  sun  had  set,  Sailor  Bill  and  three  or  four 
others  would  have  dropped  down  in  despair,  physically  un- 
able to  have  moved  any  further.  But  the  prospect  of  plenty 
of  water,  to  be  found  only  a  few  miles  ahead,  brought,  at  the 
same  time^  resolution,  strength,  and  life.  Faint  and  feeble, 
they  struggled  on,  nearly  mad  with  the  agony  of  nature's 
fierce  demands  ;  and  soon  after  sunset  they  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  well. 


THE  WATERLESS  WELL.  165 

It  was  dry  ! 

Not  a  drop  of  the  much  desired  element  was  shining  is 
the  cavity  wliere  they  had  expected  to  find  it. 

Sailor  Bill  and  some  of  the  other  slaves  sank  upon  the 
earth,  muttering  prayers  for  immediate  death. 

Golah  was  in  a  great  rage  with  everything,  and  his  wives, 
children,  slaves,  and  camels,  that  were  most  familiar  with  hia 
moods,  rushed  here  and  there  to  get  out  of  his  way. 

Suddenly  he  seemed  to  decide  on  a  course  to  be  taken  in 
this  terrible  emei'geucy,  and  his  anger  to  some  extent  sub- 
sided. 

Unbuckling  the  last  goat-skin  of  water  from  one  of  the 
camels,  he  poured  out  a  small  cup  for  each  individual  of  the 
iajila.  Each  was  then  served  with  a  little  sangleh  and  a 
couple  of  dried  figs. 

All  were  now  ordered  to  move  on  tD wards  the  west,  Golah 
leadhig  the  way.  The  new  route  was  at  right  angles  to  the 
course  they  had  been  followuig  during  the  earlier  part  of  the 
day. 

Some  of  the  slaves  who  declared  that  they  were  unable  to 
go  further,  found  out,  after  receiving  a  few  ticklings  of  the 
stick,  that  they  had  been  mistaken.  The  application  of  Go- 
lali's  cudgel  awakened  dormant  energies  of  which  they  had 
not  deemed  themselves  possessed. 

After  proceeding  about  two  miles  from  the  scene  of  their 
disappointment,  Golah  suddenly  stopped,  —  as  he  did  so, 
giving  to  his  followers  some  orders  in  a  low  tone. 

The  camels  were  immediately  brought  into  a  circle, 
forced  to  kneel  down,  while  their  lading  was  removed  from 
them. 

"While  this  was  gcing  on,  the  white  captives  heard  voices, 
and  the  trampling  of  horses'  hoofs. 

Tlie  black  sheik,  with  his  highly  educated  ear,  had  de- 
tected the  approach  of  strangers.  This  had  caused  him  to 
order  the  halt. 


166  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

When  the  noises  had  approached  a  little  nearer  Gola) 
called  out  in  Arabic :  "  Is  it  peace  ?  " 

"It  is,"  was  the  answer;  and  as  the  strangers  drew  near- 
er, the  salutations  of  "  Peace  be  with  you  ! "  —  "  Peace  be 
with  all  here,  and  with  }our  friends !  "  were  exchanged. 

The  caravan  they  had  met  consisted  of  between  fifteen 
and  twenty  men,  some  horses  and  camels ;  and  the  sheik 
who  commanded  it  inquired  of  Golah  from  whence  he 
came. 

"  From  the  west,"  answered  Golah,  giving  them  to 
understand  that  he  was  travelHng  the  same  way  as  them- 
eelves. 

"  Then  why  did  you  not  keep  on  to  the  well  ?  "  was  the 
next  inquiry. 

"  It  is  too  far  away,"  answered  Golah.  "  We  are  very 
weary." 

"  It  is  not  far,"  said  the  chief,  "  not  more  than  half  a  league. 
You  had  better  go  on." 

"  No.  I  think  it  is  more  than  two  leagues,  and  we  shall 
wait  till  morning." 

We  shall  not.  I  know  the  well  is  not  far  away,  and  we 
shall  reach  it  to-night." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Golah,  "  go,  and  may  God  be  with  yoii. 
But  stay,  masters,  have  you  a  camel  to  sell  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  good  one.  It  is  a  little  fatigued  now,  but  will  be 
Btrong  in  the  morning." 

Golah  was  aware  that  any  camel  they  would  sell  him  that 
niglit  would  be  one  that  could  only  move  with  much  ditfi- 
culty,  —  one  that  tliey  despaired  of  getting  any  further  on 
the  way.  Tlie  black  sheik  knew  his  own  business  best ; 
and  was  willing  they  should  think  they  had  cheated  him  in 
the  bargain. 

After  wrangling  for  a  few  minutes,  he  succeeded  in  buy 
ing  their  camel,  —  the  price  being  a  pair  of  blankets,  a  sliirt, 
and  the  dirk  that  had  been  takeji  from  Terence.     The  camel 


THE  WATERLESS  WELL.  167 

nad  no  cargo ;  aud  liad  for  some  time  been  forced  onward  at 
considerable  trouble  to  its  owner. 

The  straugers  soon  took  their  departure,  going  off  in  the 
direction  of  the  dry  well.  As  soon  as  they  were  out  of  sight 
Golah  gave  orders  to  reload  the  animals,  and  resume  the 
interrupted  march.  To  excite  the  slaves  to  a  continuance 
of  the  journey,  he  promised  that  the  camel  he  had  purchased 
should  be  slaughtered  on  tlie  next  morning  for  their  break- 
ftifit ;  and  that  they  should  have  a  long  rest  in  the  shade  ol 
the  tents  during  the  following  day. 

This  promise,  undoubtedly,  had  the  anticipated  effect  in 
revivifying  their  failing  energies,  and  they  managed  to  move 
on  until  near  daybreak,  when  the  camel  lately  purchased 
laid  itself  down,  and  philosophically  resisted  every  attempt 
at  compelling  it  to  continue  the  journey. 

It  was  worn  out  with  toil  and  hunger,  and  could  not  re- 
cover its  feet. 

The  other  animals  were  stopped  and  unladen,  the  tents 
were  pitched,  and  preparations  made  for  resting  throughout 
the  day. 

After  some  dry  weeds  had  been  collected  for  fuel,  Golah 
proceeded  to  fulfd  his  promise  of  giving  them  plenty  of  food. 

A  noose  was  made  at  the  end  of  a  rope,  and  placed  around 
the  camel's  lower  jaw.  Its  head  was  then  screwed  about,  as 
fai  as  it  would  reach,  and  the  rope  was  made  fast  to  the  root 
of  its  tail,  —  the  long  neck  of  the  camel  allowing  its  head 
to  be  brought  within  a  few  inches  of  the  place  where  the 
rope  was  tied. 

Fatima,  the  favorite,  stood  by  holding  a  copper  kettle ; 
while  Golah  opo'ied  a  vein  on  the  side  of  the  animal's  neck 
near  the  breastbone.  The  blood  gushed  forth  in  a  stj  earn  ; 
and  before  the  camel  had  breathed  its  last,  the  vessel  held  to 
catch  it  had  become  filled  more  than  half  full. 

The  kettle  was  then  placed  over  the  fire,  and  the  blood 
ivnled  aud  stirred  with  a  stick  until  it  had  become  as  thick 


168  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

as  porridge.  It  was  then  taken  off',  and  wlien  it  had  cooled 
down,  it  resembled,  both  in  color  and  consistency,  the  liver 
of  a  fresh  killed  bullock. 

This  food  was  divided  amongst  the  slaves,  and  was  greed 
ily  devoured  by  all. 

The  heart  and  liver  of  the  camel,  Golah  ordered  to  ht 
cooked  for  his  own  family ;  and  what  little  flesh  was  on  the 
bones,  was  cut  into  strips,  and  hung  up  in  the  sun  to  dry. 

In  one  portion  of  the  camel's  stomach  was  about  a  gallon 
and  a  half  of  water,  thick  and  dirty  with  the  vegetation  it 
had  last  consumed  ;  but  all  was  caiefully  poured  into  a  goat'a 
skin,  and  preserved  for  future  use. 

The  intestines  were  also  saved,  and  hung  out  hi  the  sun 
to  get  cured  by  drying,  to  be  afterwards  eaten  by  the 
slaves. 

During  the  day  Harry  and  Terence  asked  for  an  inter 
view  with  Golah ;  and,  accompanied  by  the  Krooman,  were 
allowed  to  sit  down  by  the  door  of  his  tent  while  they  con- 
versed with  him. 

Harry  instructed  the  Krooman  to  inform  their  master, 
that  if  they  were  taken  to  some  seaport,  a  higher  ransom 
would  be  paid  for  them  than  any  price  for  which  they  could 
be  sold  elsewhere. 

Golah's  reply  to  this  information  was,  that  he  doubted  its 
truth ;  that  he  did  not  like  seaport  towns ;  that  his  business  lay 
away  from  the  sea ;  and  that  he  was  anxious  to  reach  Tim- 
buctoo  as  soon  as  possible.  He  further  stated,  that  if  all  his 
slaves  were  Christian  dogs,  who  had  reached  the  country  in 
ships,  it  might  be  worth  his  while  to  take  them  to  some  port 
where  they  would  be  redeemed  ;  but  as  the  mo-t  of  them 
were  of  countries  that  did  not  pay  ransoms  for  their  sub- 
jects, there  would  be  no  use  in  his  carrying  tliem  to  the 
coast,  —  where  they  might  escape  from  him,  and  he  would 
then  have  had  all  his  trouble  for  nothing. 

He  was  next  asked  if  he  would  not  try  to  sell  the  white 


THE   WATERLESS  WELL.  169 

captives  along  witli  the  two  Kroomen,  to  some  slave  dealer, 
who  would  take  thetn  to  the  coast  for  a  market. 

Golah  would  not  promise  this.  He  said,  that  to  do  so, 
he  should  have  to  sell  them  on  the  desert,  where  he  could 
not  obtain  half  their  value. 

The  oiily  information  they  were  able  to  obtain  from  him 
was,  that  they  were  quite  certain  of  seeing  that  far-famed 
city,  Timbuctoo,  —  that  was  if  they  should  prove  strong 
enough  to  endure  the  hardships  of  the  journey. 

After  thanking  Golah  for  his  condescension  in  listening  to 
their  appeal,  the  Kroomau  withdrew,  followed  by  the  others, 
who  now  for  the  first  time  began  to  realize  the  horror  of 
their  position.  A  plentifid  supply  of  food,  along  with  the 
day's  rest,  had  caused  all  the  white  slaves  to  turn  their 
thoughts  from  the  present  to  the  future. 

Harry  Blount  and  Terence,  after  their  interview  with 
Golah,  found  Colin  and  Sailor  Bill  anxiously  awaiting  theii 
return. 

"  Well,  what 's  the  news  ? "  asked  Bill,  as  they  drew 
near. 

"  Very  bad,"  answered  Terence.  "  There  is  no  hope  fol 
us  :  we  are  going  to  Timbuctoo." 

"  No,  I  'm  no  going  there,"  said  Bill,  "  if  it  was  in  anothel 
world  I  migh,'-  see  the  place  soon  enough,  but  in  this,  niver, 
—  niver  1 " 


170  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER    XLIX. 

THE    WELL. 

AT  an  early  hour  next  morning  the  caravan  started  oa 
its  journey,  still  moving  westward.  This  direction 
Golah  was  compelled  to  pursue  to  obtain  a  supply  of  water, 
although  it  was  taking  him  no  nearer  his  destination. 

Two  days'  journey  was  before  them  ere  they  could  reach 
another  Avell.  While  performing  it,  Golah,  vexed  at  the  de- 
lay thus  occasioned,  was  in  very  ill -humor  Avith  things  in 
general. 

Some'of  his  displeasure  was  vented  upon  the  camel  he 
was  riding,  and  the  animal  was  usually  driven  far  ahead  of 
the  others. 

The  sheik's  wrath  also  fell  upon  his  wives  for  lingering 
behind,  and  then  upon  the  slaves  for  not  following  closer 
upon  the  heels  of  his  camel.  His  son,  and  brother-in-law, 
would  at  intervals  be  solemnly  cursed  in  the  name  of  the 
Prophet  for  not  driving  the  slaves  faster. 

Before  the  well  had  been  reached,  the  four  white  slaves 
were  in  a  very  wretched  condition.  Their  feet  were  blis- 
tered and  roasted  by  vhe  hot  sand,  and  as  the  clothing  al- 
lowed them  was  insufficient  protection  against  the  blazing 
Bun,  their  necks  and  legs  were  inflamed  and  bleeding. 

The  intestines  and  most  of  the  flesh  of  the  slaughtered 
camel  had  been  long  ago  consumed,  as  well  as  the  filthy 
water  taken  from  its  stomach. 

Colin  had  again  established  himself  iQ  the  ff<vor  of  the 
sheik's  Avife,  and  was  allowed  to  have  the  care  of  the  child  ; 
but  the  little  food  and  drink  he  received  for  his  attention  to 
it  were  dearly  earned. 

The  weight  of  the  young  negro  was  a  serious  incumbrance 
in  a  weary  journey  through  what  seemed  to  be  a  burning 


THE  WELL.  171 

plain  ;  moreover  the  "  darkey,"  in  Keeping  its  seat  on  the 
young  Scotchman's  shoulders,  had  pulled  a  quantity  of  hail 
out  of  his  licad,  besides  rendering  his  scalp  exceedingly  irri- 
table to  further  treatment  of  a  like  kind. 

Hungry,  thirsty,  weak,  lame,  and  weary,  the  wretched 
captives  struggled  on  until  the  well  was  reached. 

On  arriving  within  sight  of  a  small  hill  on  which  were 
growing  two  or  three  sickly  bushes,  Golah  pointed  towards 
it,  at  the  same  time  turning  his  face  to  those  who  were  fol- 
lowing him.  All  understood  the  signal,  and  seemed  sud- 
denly inspired  with  hope  and  happiness.  The  travellers 
pressed  forward  with  awakened  energy,  and  after  passing 
over  the  hill  came  in  sight  of  tlie  well  at  its  foot. 

The  eagerness  exhibited  by  the  slaves  to  quench  their 
thirst  might  have  been  amusing  to  any  others  tcan  those  who 
beheld  them ;  but  their  master  seemed  intent  on  giving  them 
&  further  lesson  in  the  virtue  of  patience. 

He  first  ordered  the  camels  to  be  unladen,  and  the  tents 
to  be  pitched.  "While  some  were  doing  this,  he  directed 
others  to  seek  for  fuel. 

Meanwhile,  he  amused  himself  by  collecting  all  the  dishes 
and  drinking-vessels,  and  placing  them  contiguous  to  the  well. 

He  then  attached  a  rope  to  a  leathern  bucket,  and,  draw- 
ing water  from  the  reservoir,  he  carefully  filled  the  utensils, 
with  the  least  possible  waste  of  the  precious  fluid  his  follow- 
ers were  so  anxious  to  obtam. 

When  his  arrangements  were  completed,  he  called  his 
wives  and  children  around  him.  Then,  serving  out  to  each 
of  them  about  a  pint  of  the  water,  and  giving  them  a  few 
seconds  for  swallowing  it,  he  ordered  them  off. 

Each  obeyed  without  a  murmur,  all  apparently  satisfied. 

The  slaves  were  next  called  up,  and  then  there  was  a 
rush  in  real  earnest.  The  vessels  were  eagerly  seized,  and 
their  contents  greedily  swallowed.  They  were  pr'jseuted 
for  more,  X'efilled,  and  again  emptied. 


172  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

The  quantity  of  water  swallowed  by  Sailor  Bill  and  lii* 
bhree  young  companions,  and  the  rapacity  with  which  it  was 
gulped  down,  caused  Golah  to  declare  that  there  was  but  one 
God,  that  Maliomet  was  his  Prophet,  and  that  four  of  llie 
slaves  about  him  were  Christian  swine. 

After  all  had  satisfied  the  demands  of  nature,  Golah 
showed  them  the  quantity  of  water  he  deemed  sufficient  for 
a  thirsty  individual  by  drinking  about  a  pint  himself —  not 
more  than  a  fifth  of  the  amount  consumed  by  each  of  his 
white  slaves. 

Long  years  of  short  allowance  had  accustomed  the  negro 
sheik  to  make  shift  with  a  limited  allowance  of  the  precious 
commodity,  and  yet  continue  strong  and  active. 

About  two  hours  after  thrj  had  reached  the  well,  and  just 
as  they  had  finished  watering  the  camels,  another  caravan 
arrived.  Its  leader  was  liailed  by  Golah  with  the  words, 
"  Is  it  peace  ?  "  —  the  usual  salutation  when  strangers  meet 
on  the  desert. 

"  The  answer  was,  "  It  is  peace  " ;  and  the  new  comers 
dismounted,  and  pitched  their  camp. 

Next  morning  Golah  had  a  long  talk  with  their  sheik, 
after  which  he  returned  to  his  own  tents  in  much  apparent 
uneasiness. 

The  caravan  newly  arrived  consisted  of  eleven  men,  with 
eight  camels  and  three  Saaran  horses.  The  men  were  all 
Arabs  —  none  of  them  being  slaves.  They  were  well 
armed,  and  carried  no  merchandise.  They  had  lately  come 
from  the  north »vest,  for  what  purpose  Golah  knew  not: 
since  the  account  the  stranger  sheik  had  given  of  himself 
was  not  satisfactory. 

Though  very  short  of  provisions,  Golah  rer^olved  not  to 
leave  the  well  that  day ;  and  the  Krooman  learnt  that  thi» 
resolution  was  caused  by  his  fear  of  the  strangers. 

"  If  he  is  afraid  of  them,"  said  Harry,  "  I  should  sup- 
pose tliat  would  make  him  all  the  more  anxious  to  get  out 
of  their  company.'" 


THE  WELL  173 

Thu  If  rooman,  in  explanation,  stated  ttat  if  the  Arabs 
were  robbers  —  pirates  of  the  desert  —  they  would  not 
molest  Golah  so  long  as  he  remained  at  the  well. 

"In  this  the  Krooman  was  correct.  Highway  robbers  do 
not  waylay  their  victims  at  an  inn,  but  on  the  road.  Piratei 
do  not  plunder  ships  in  a  harbor,  but  out  on  the  open  ocean. 
Custom,  founded  on  some  goo:l  purpose,  has  established  a 
similar  rule  on  the  great  sandy  ocean  of  the  Saiira. 

"  I  wish  they  were  robbers,  and  would  take  us  from 
Grolah  !  "  said  Colin.  "  We  should  then  perhaps  be  carried 
to  the  north,  where  we  might  be  ransomed  some  time  or 
other.  As  it  is,  if  we  are  to  be  taken  to  Timbuctoo,  we 
shall  never  escape  out  of  Africa." 

"  We  shall  not  be  taken  there,"  cried  Terence.  "  We 
shall  turn  robbers  ourselves  first.  I  will  for  one  ;  and  when 
I  do,  Golah  shall  be  robbed  of  one  of  his  slaves  at  least." 

"An'  that  wan  will  be  Misther  Terence  O'Connor,  ov 
coorse  ?  "  said  Bill. 

«  Yes." 

"  Thin  ye  will  'ave  done  no  more  than  Master  Colly,  who 
has  already  robbed  'im  ov  twa  —  the  haffections  ov  'is  wife 
an'  bairn." 

"  That  will  do.  Bill,"  said  Colin,  who  did  not  like  hearing 
any  allusion  made  to  the  woman.  "  We  have  something 
else  that  should  engage  our  attention.  Since  we  have  learnt 
that  they  intend  taking  us  to  Timbuctoo,  it  is  time  we  began 
to  act.     We  must  not  go  there." 

"  That  is  understood,"  said  Harry ;  "  but  what  can  we 
do  ?  Something  should  be  done  immediately.  Every  day 
we  journey  southward  carries  us  farther  from  home,  or  the 
chance  of  ever  getting  there.  Perhaps  these  Arabs  may 
buy  us,  and  take  us  north.  Suppose  we  get  the  Krooman 
to  speak  to  them  ?  " 

All  consented  to  this  course.  The  Krooman  was  called , 
and  when  informed  of  their  wishes  he  said  that  be  roust  no< 


174  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

te  seen  speaking  to  the  Arab?,  or  Golali  would  bo  dis' 
pleased.  lie  also  stated  —  what  the  white  captives  had  al- 
ready observed  —  that  Golah  and  his  eon  were  keeping  a 
sharp  watch  over  thera,  as  well  as  over  the  strangers ;  and 
that  an  opportunity  of  talking  to  the  Arab  sheik  might  not 
be  easily  obtained. 

"While  he  was  still  speaking,  the  latter  was  observed  pro 
ceeding  towards  the  well  to  draw  some  water. 

The  Krooman  instantly  arose,  and  sauntei*ed  after. 

He  was  observed  by  the  quick  eye  of  Golah,  who  called 
to  him  to  come  away ;  which  he  did,  but  not  before  quench- 
ing his  thirst,  that  did  not  appear  to  be  very  great. 

On  the  Krooman's  return  from  the  well,  he  informed 
Harry  that  he  had  spoken  to  the  Arab  sheik.  He  had  said, 
"  Buy  us.  You  will  get  plenty  of  money  for  us  in  Swearah ;" 
and  that  the  reply  of  the  sheik  was,  "  The  white  slaves  are 
dogs,  and  not  worth  buying." 

"  Then  we  have  no  hope  from  that  source !  "  exclaimed 
Terence. 

The  Krooman  shook  his  head ;  not  despondently,  but  as 
if  he  did  not  agree  in  the  opinion  Terence  had  expressed. 

"  What !    do  you  think  there  is  any  hope  ?  "  asked  Harry 

The  man  gave  a  nod  of  assent. 

"  How  ?     In  what  way  ?  " 

The  Krooman  vouclisafed  no  explanation,  but  sauntered 
silently  away. 

When  the  sun  was  within  two  or  three  hours  of  setting 
over  the  Saara,  the  Arabs  struck  their  tents,  and  started  olT 
m  the  direction  of  the  dry  well  —  from  whence  Golah  and 
his  caravan  had  just  come.  After  they  had  disappeared  be- 
hind the  hill,  Golah's  son  was  sent  to  its  top  to  watch  them, 
while  his  women  and  slaves  were  ordered  to  strike  the  teuta 
as  quickly  as  possible. 

Then  waiting  till  the  shades  of  night  had  descended  over 
the  desert,  and  the  strangers  were   beyond  the  reach   of 


A  MOMENTODS  INQUIRY.  175 

\n3ion,  Golah  gave  orders  to  resume  the  march  once  more 
in  a  southeasterly  direction  —  which  would  carry  them 
away  from  the  seacoast  —  and,  as  the  white  slaves  believed, 
fi'om  all  chances  of  their  ever  recovering  their  freedom. 

The  Krooman,  on  the  contrary,  appeared  to  be  pleased  at 
their  taking  this  direction,  notwithstanding  the  objections  ha 
had  exjiressed  to  going  inland. 


CHAPTER    L. 

A   MOMENTOUS    INQUIRY. 

DURING  the  night's  journey  Golah  still  seemed  to  have 
some  fear  of  the  Arabs  ;  and  so  gi'eat  was  his  desire  to 
place  as  much  ground  as  possible  between  himself  and  them, 
that  he  did  not  halt,  until  the  sun  was  more  than  two  hours 
above  the  horizon. 

For  some  time  before  a  halt  had  been  planned,  Fatima, 
his  favorite  wife,  had  been  riding  by  his  side,  and  making, 
what  seemed,  from  the  excited  movements  of  both,  an  im- 
portant communication. 

After  the  tents  had  been  pitched,  and  food  was  about  be- 
ing served  out,  Golah  commanded  the  mother  of  the  boy 
carried  by  Colin  to  produce  the  bag  of  figs  that  had  been 
intrusted  to  her  keeping. 

Trembling  with  apprehension,  the  woman  rose  to  obey. 
The  Krooman  glanced  at  the  white  captives  with  an  expres- 
sion of  horror ;  and  although  they  had  not  understood  Go- 
'^h's  command,  they  saw  that  something  was  going  wrong. 

The  woman  produced  the  bag ;  which  was  not  quite  half 
full.     There  were  in  it  about  two  quarts  of  dried  figs. 

The  figs  *hat  had  been  served  out  thrfio  days  before  at  tha 


176  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

dry  well  had  been  taken  from  another  bag  kept  in  the  cus- 
tody of  Fatima. 

The  one  now  produced  by  the  second  wife  should  have 
been  full :  and  Golah  demanded  to  know  why  it  was  not. 

The  woman  tremblingly  asseverated  that  she  and  her 
children  had  eaten  them. 

At  this  confession  Fatima  uttered  a  scornful  laugh,  and 
spoke  a  few  words  that  increased  the  terror  of  the  delin- 
quent mother,  —  at  the  same  time  causing  the  boy  to  com- 
mence howling  with  affright. 

"I  tell  you  so,"  said  the  Krooman,  who  was  standing 
near  the  white  slaves ;  "  Fatima  say  to  Golah,  '  Christian 
dog  eat  the  figs ' ;  Golah  kill  him  now ;  he  kill  da  woman 
too." 

In  the  opinion  of  those  who  travel  the  great  desert,  about 
the  greatest  crime  that  can  be  committed  is  to  steal  food  or 
drink,  and  consume  either  unknown  to  their  companions  of 
the  journey. 

Articles  of  food  intrusted  to  the  care  of  any  one  must  be 
guarded  and  preserved,  —  even  at  the  expense  of  life. 

Under  no  circumstances  may  a  morsel  be  consumed,  until 
it  is  produced  in  the  presence  of  all,  and  a  division,  either 
equitable  or  otherwise,  has  been  made. 

Even  had  the  story  told  by  the  woman  been  true,  her 
crime  would  have  been  considered  sufficiently  great  to  have 
endangered  her  life ;  but  her  sin  was  greater  than  that. 

She  had  bestowed  favor  upon  a  slave,  —  a  Christian  dog, 
—  and  had  aroused  the  jealousy  of  her  IMahometan  lord  and 
master. 

Fatima  seemed  happy;  for  nothing  less  than  a  miracle 
could,  in  her  opinion,  save  the  life  of  her  fellow-wife,  who 
chanced  to  be  a  hated  rival. 

After  drawing  his  scimitar  from  its  sheath,  and  cocking 
his  musket,  Golah  ordered  all  *he  slaves  to  squat  themselvea 
on  the  ground,  and  in  a  row. 


A  MOMENTOUS  INQUIRY.  177 

This  ordei  was  quickly  comprehended  and  obeyed,  —  tha 
whites  seating  themselves  together  at  one  end  of  the  line. 

Golah's  son  and  the  other  guard  —  each  with  his  musket 
loaded  and  cocked  —  were  stationed  in  front  of  the  row :  and 
were  ordered  by  the  sheik  to  shoot  any  one  who  attempted 
to  get  up  from  the  ground. 

The  monster  then  stepped  up  to  Colin,  and,  seizing  the 
young  Scotchman  by  the  auburn  locks,  dragged  him  a  few 
paces  apart  from  his  companions.  There,  for  a  time,  he  was 
left  alone. 

Golah  then  proceeded  to  serve  out  some  cheni  to  every 
individual  on  the  ground  ;  but  none  was  given  to  the  woman 
who  had  aroused  his  anger,  nor  to  Colin. 

In  the  sheik's  opinion,  to  have  offered  them  food  would 
have  been  an  act  as  foolish  as  to  have  poured  it  upon  the 
Bands. 

Food  was  intended  to  sustain  life,  and  it  was  not  designed 
by  him  that  they  should  live  much  longer.  And  yet  it  was 
evident  from  his  manner  that  he  had  not  quite  determined  aa 
to  how  they  were  to  die. 

The  two  guards,  with  the  muskets  in  their  grasp,  kept  a 
sharp  eye  on  the  slaves,  while  Golah  became  engaged  in  a 
close  consultation  with  Fatima. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?  "  asked  Terence  ;  "  the  old  villain 
means  mischief,  and  how  can  we  prevent  it  ?  We  must  not 
let  him  kill  poor  Colly  ?  " 

"  We  must  do  something  immediately,"  said  Harry.  "We 
have  neglected  it  too  long,  and  shall  now  have  to  act  under 
the  disadvantage  of  tlieir  being  prepared  for  an  attack.  Bill, 
what  should  we  do  ?  " 

"  1  was  just  thinking,"  said  Bill,  "  that  if  we  all  made  a 
rush  at  'em,  at  the  words  One  —  two  —  three  !  not  more  'n 
two  or  three  of  us  might  be  killed  afore  we  grappled  with 
'em.  Now,  this  might  do,  if  these  "black  fellows  would  only 
jine  us." 

8  ♦  L 


178  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

The  Krooman  here  expressed  himself  as  one  Ttilliug  to 
take  his  chance  in  any  action  they  should  propose,  and  be- 
lieved that  liis  countrymen  would  do  the  same;,  lie  feared^ 
LcweveF,  that  the  other  blacks  could  not  be  trusted,  and  that 
any  proposal  he  might  make  to  them  would  be  in  a  language 
the  two  guards  would  understand. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Harry,  "  there  will  be  six  of  us  against 
three.     Shall  I  give  the  word  ?  " 

"  All  right ! "  said  Terence,  drawing  his  feet  under  his 
body,  by  way  of  preparation  for  rising  suddenly. 

The  scheme  was  a  desperate  one,  but  all  seemed  willing 
to  undertake  it. 

Since  leaving  the  well,  they  had  felt  convinced  that  life 
and  liberty  depended  on  their  making  a  struggle ;  though 
circumstances  seemed  to  have  forced  that  struggle  upon  thtm 
when  there  was  the  least  hope  of  success. 

"Now  all  make  ready,"  muttered  Harry,  speaking  iu  a 
calm  voice,  so  as  not  to  excite  the  attention  of  the  guards. 
''One!" 

"  Stop  !"  exclaimed  Colin,  who  had  been  listening  atten- 
tively to  all  that  was  said.  "  I  'm  not  with  you.  We  should 
all  be  killed.  Two  or  three  would  be  shot,  and  the  sheik 
himself  could  finish  all  the  rest  with  his  scimitar.  It  is  bet- 
ter for  him  to  kill  me,  if  he  really  means  to  do  so,  than  to 
have  all  four  destroyed  in  the  vain  hope  of  trying  to  save 
one." 

"  It  is  not  for  you  alone  that  we  are  going  to  act,"  inter- 
posed Harry.     "  It  is  as  much  for  ourselves." 

"  Then  act  when  there  is  a  chance  of  succeeding,"  pursued 
Colin.  '*  You  cannot  save  me,  and  will  only  lose  your  own 
lives." 

"  De  big  black  sheik  am  going  to  kill  someb'dy,  dat  berry 
Bure,"  said  tLe  Krooman,  as  he  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon 
Golah. 

The  latter  was  still  in  consultation  with  Fatiraa,  hi^  face 


A  MOMENTOUS  INQUIRY.  179 

ivearing  an  expression  that  was  horrible  for  all  except  her* 
self  to  behold.  Murder  by  excruciating  torture  seemed 
written  on  every  feature  of  his  countenance. 

The  woman,  upon  whose  manner  of  deatli  they  Aveie  de- 
liberating, was  in  the  act  of  care-sing  her  children,  appar- 
ently conscious  that  she  had  but  a  few  minutes  more  to  re- 
main in  their  company.  Her  features  wore  an  expression 
of  calm  and  hopeless  resignation,  as  if  she  had  yielded  her- 
self up  to  the  decree  of  an  inevitable  fate. 

The  third  wife  had  retired  a  short  distance  from  the  others. 
With  her  child  in  her  arms,  she  sat  upon  the  ground,  con- 
templating the  scene  before  her  with  a  look  of  mingled  sur- 
prise, curiosity,  and  regret. 

From  the  appearance  of  the  whole  caravan,  a  stranger 
could  have  divined  that  some  event  of  thrilling  interest  was 
about  to  transpire. 

"  Colin,"  cried  Terence,  encouragingly,  "  we  won't  sit  here 
quietly,  and  see  you  meet  death.  We  had  better  do  some- 
thing while  yet  we  have  a  chance.  Let  Harry  give  the 
word." 

"  I  tell  you  it 's  madness,"  expostulated  Colin.  "  Wait  till 
we  see  what  he  intends  doing.  Perhaps  he  '11  keep  me 
a  while  for  future  vengeance,  and  ye  may  have  a  chance  of  a 
rescue  when  there  are  not  two  men  standing  over  us  ready 
to  blow  our  brains  out." 

Colin's  companions  saw  there  was  truth  in  this  remark,  and 
for  a  while  they  waited  in  sUence,  with  their  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  lent  of  the  shiek. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait,  for,  soon  after,  Golah  came 
forth,  ha\ing  finished  his  consultation  with  Fatima. 

On  his  face  appeared  a  hideous  smile,  —  a  smile  that 
made  most  of  those  who  beheld  it  shudder  with  a  sensation 
of  horror. 


180  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER    LI. 

A    LIVING    GEAVE. 

GOLAH'8  first  act  aftei  coming  forth  was  to  take  somt 
"  thongs  fnfin  his  saddle.  Having  done  this,  he  beck- 
oned to  the  two  who  guarded  the  slaves,  giving  them  some 
admonition  in  an  unknown  tongue.  The  effect  was  to  ex- 
cite their  greater  vigilance.  The  muzzles  of  their  muskots 
were  turned  towards  the  white  captives,  and  they  seemed 
anxiously  waiting  the  order  to  fire. 

Golah  then  looked  towards  Terence,  and  made  a  sign  for 
the  young  Irishman  to  get  up  and  come  towards  hira. 

Terence  hesitated. 

«  Go  on,  Terry,"  muttered  Colin  "  He  don't  mean  you 
any  harm." 

At  tliis  instant  Fatima  stepped  j^st  from  the  tent,  armed 
with  her  husband's  scimitar,  and  apparently  anxious  for  an 
opportunity  of  using  it. 

Acting  under  the  advice  of  the  others,  Terence  sprang  to 
his  feet:  and  advanced  to  the  spot  where  the  sheik  was 
standing.  The  Krooman  who  spoke  English  was  then 
called  up ;  and  Golah,  taking  him  and  the  midshipman  each 
by  a  hand,  led  them  into  his  tent,  —  whither  they  were  fol- 
lowed by  Fatima. 

The  sheik  now  addressed  a  few  words  to  the  Krooman, 
who  then  told  Terence  that  his  life  depended  on  perfect 
obedience  to  Golah's  orders.  His  hands  were  to  be  tied: 
and  he  mu3t  not  call  out  so  as  to  be  heard  by  the  others. 

"  He  say,"  said  the  Krooman,  '•  if  yeu  no  make  fight,  and 
no  make  noise,  he  no  kill  you." 

Tiie  man  further  counselled  Terence  to  submit  quietly, — 
6ayiug  that  the  least  resistance  wc  ild  lead  to  all  the  vvhit« 
slaves  being  killed. 


A  LIVING  GRAVE.  181 

Though  possessing  more  than  average  strength  and  power 
for  a  youth  of  his  age,  Terence  knew  that,  in  a  strife  with 
the  gigantic  black  sheik,  he  would  not  have  the  slightest 
chauce  of  being  victor. 

Should  he  shout  to  his  companions,  and  have  them  all  act 
in  concert,  —  as  they  had  already  proposed  ? 

No.  Such  an  act  would  most  likely  lead  to  two  of  them 
being  shot ;  to  the  third  having  his  brains  knocked  out  with 
the  butt-end  of  a  musket;  and  to  the  fourth,  —  himself, — 
being  strangled  in  the  powerful  grasp  of  Golah,  if  not 
beheaded  with  the  scimitar  in  the  hands  of  Fatima.  On 
reflection,  the  young  Scotchman  yielded,  and  permitted 
his  hands  to  be  tied  beliind  his  back ;  so,  too,  did  the 
Krooman. 

Golah  now  stepped  out  of  the  tent:  and  immediately 
after  returned,  leading  Harry  Blount  along  with  him. 

On  reaching  the  opening,  and  seeing  Terence  and  the 
Krooman  lying  bound  upon  the  floor,  the  young  Englishman 
started  back,  and  struggled  to  free  himself  from  the  grasp  of 
the  hand  that  had  hold  of  him.  His  efforts  only  resulted  in 
his  being  instantly  flung  to  the  earth,  and  fast  held  by  hia 
powerful  adversary,  who  at  the  same  time  was  also  employed 
in  protecting  his  victim  from  the  fury  of  Fatima. 

Terence,  Harry,  and  the  Krooman  were  now  conducted 
back  over  the  ground,  and  placed  in  their  former  position  in 
the  row,  —  from  which  they  had  been  temporarily  taken. 

Sailor  Bill  and  Colin  were  next  treated  in  a  similar  fash- 
ion, —  both  being  fast  bound  like  their  companions. 

"  What  dees  the  ould  divil  mane  ?  "  asked  Bill  when  Golab 
was  tying  his  hands  together.     "  Will  he  murder  us  all  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  Krooman.  "  He  no  kill  but  one  of 
your  party." 

His  eyes  turned  upon  Colin  as  he  spoke. 

"  Colin  !  Colin  !  "  exclaimed  Harry ;  "  see  what  you  have 
do]ie  by  opposing  our  plan !     We  are  all  helpless  now." 


182  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

"  And  so  much  the  better  for  yourselves,"  answere;!  Colin 
"  You  will  now  suffer  no  further  harm." 

'*  If  he  means  no  harm,  why  has  he  bound  us  ? ''  asked 
Bill.     "  It 's  a  queer  way  of  showing  friendship." 

"  Yes,  but  a  safe  one,"  answered  Colin.  "  You  cannot  now 
bring  yourselves  into  danger  by  a  foolish  resi.stance  to  his 
will " 

Terence  and  Harry  understood  Colin's  meaning;  and  now, 
for  the  first  time,  comprehended  the  reason  why  they  had 
been  bound. 

It  was  to  prevent  them  from  interfering  with  Golah's  plans 
for  the  disposal  of  his  two  victims. 

Now  that  the  white  slaves  were  secured,  no  danger  was 
apprehended  from  the  others ;  and  the  two  who  had  been 
guarding  them  retired  to  the  shade  of  a  tent  to  refresh  them- 
selves with  a  drink  of  cheni. 

While  the  brief  conversation  above  related  was  being  held, 
Golah  had  become  busily  engaged  in  overhauling  the  lading 
of  one  of  his  camels. 

The  object  of  his  search  w^as  soon  discovered :  for,  the 
moment  after,  he  came  towards  them  carrying  a  long  Moor- 
ish spade. 

Two  of  the  black  slaves  were  then  called  from  the  line  ; 
the  spade  was  placed  in  the  bar. Is  of  one,  and  a  wooden  dish 
was  given  to  the  other.  They  were  then  ordered  to  make  a 
large  hole  in  the  sand,  —  to  accomplish  wlucb  they  at  once 
set  to  work. 

■  "  They  are  digging  a  grave  for  me,  or  that  of  the  pocr 
woman,  —  perhaps  for  both  of  us  ?  "  suggested  Ct)lin,  as  lie 
calmly  gazed  on  the  spectacle. 

His  companions  had  no  doubt  but  that  it  was  as  he  liad 
said;  and  sat  contemphiting  the  scene  in  melancholy  silence. 

While  the  slaves  were  engaged  in  scooping  up  the  hole, 
Golah  called  the  two  guards,  and  gave  them  some  orderi 
about  continuing  the  journey. 


A   LIVING   GRAVE.  183 

The  Wttcks  set  about  the  work  were  but  a  few  minutes  in 
making  an  excavation  in  the  loose  sand  of  some  four  feet  ia 
depth.     They  were  then  directed  to  dig  another. 

"  It's  all  over  with  me,'  said  Colin  ;  "  he  intends  to  kiL 
two,  and  of  course  I  must  be  one  of  them." 

«<  lie  should  kill  us  all,"  exclaimed  Terence.  "  We  de 
serve  it  for  leaving  the  well  last  night.  We  should  have 
made  an  effort  for  our  lives,  while  we  had  the  chance." 

"  You  are  right,"  replied  Harry  ;  "  we  are  fools,  cowardly 
fools  !  We  deserve  neither  pity  in  this  world  nor  happiness 
in  the  next.  Colly,  my  friend,  if  you  meet  with  any  harm, 
1  swear  to  avenge  it,  whenever  my  hands  are  free." 

"  And  I  '11  be  with  you,"  added  Terence. 

"  Never  mind  me,  old  comrades,"  answered  Colin,  who 
seemed  less  excited  than  the  others.  "  Do  the  best  you  can 
for  yourselves,  and  you  may  some  time  escape  from  this 
monster." 

The  attention  of  Harry  was  now  attracted  to  Sailor  Bill, 
who  had  turned  his  back  toward  one  of  the  black  slaves  sit- 
ting near  him,  and  was  by  signs  entreating  the  man  to  untie 
his  hand. 

The  man  refused,  evidently  fearing  the  anger  of  Golah 
should  he  be  detected. 

The  second  Krooman,  who  was  unbound,  now  offered  to 
loose  the  hands  of  his  countryman ;  but  the  latter  seemed 
satisfied  with  his  want  of  freedom,  and  refused  the  proffered 
aid.     He  also  feared  death  at  the  hands  of  Golah. 

If  left  to  divine  the  ultimate  intentions  of  the  black  sheik 
by  the  knowledge  of  human  nature  they  had  acquired  before 
faUing  into  his  hands,  the  white  captives  would  not  have 
been  seriously  alarmed  for  the  welfare  of  any  one  of  their 
number.  But  Golah  was  a  specimen  of  natural  history  new 
to  them  ;  and  their  apprehensions  were  excited  to  the  highest 
pitch  by  the  conduct  of  those  whom  they  knew  to  be  bettei 
acquainted  with  his  character. 


184  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

The  behavior  of  the  woman  who  had  ai'oused  his  angei 
ehowed  that  she  was  endeavoring  to  resign  herself  to  some 
fearful  mode  of  death.  The  wild  lamentations  of  her  chil« 
dren  denoted  that  they  were  conscious  of  some  impending 
misfortune. 

Fatima  seemed  about  to  realize  the  fulfilment  of  some 
long-cherished  hope,  —  the  hope  of  revenge  on  a  detested 
rival. 

The  care  Golah  had  taken  to  hinder  any  interference  with 
his  plans,  —  the  words  of  the  Krooman,  the  looks  and  ges- 
tures of  the  guards  and  of  Golah  himself,  the  digging  of  two 
graves  in  the  sand,  —  all  gave  warning  that  some  fearful 
tragedy  was  about  to  be  enacted.  Our  adventurers  were 
conscious  of  this,  and  conscious,  also,  that  they  could  do 
nothing  to  prevent  it. 

Nearly  frantic  with  the  helplessness  of  their  position,  they 
could  only  wait  —  "  trembling  for  the  birth  of  Fate." 


CHAPTER    LI  I. 

THE    sheik's    plan    OF    REVENGE. 

ri'^IIE  second  sand-pit  was  dug  a  short  distance  from  th© 
B  first ;  and  when  it  had  been  sunk  to  tlie  depth  of  about 
four  and  a  half  feet,  Golah  commanded  the  blacks  to  leave 
off  tJieir  labor,  —  one  of  them  being  sent  back  to  the  line  to 
be  seated  along  with  his  fellow-slaves. 

By  tliis  time  the  tents  had  been  struck,  the  camels  loaded; 
and  all  but  Golah  and  Fatima  appeared  willing  and  anxioua 
to  dei)art  from  the  spot.  These  were  not :  for  their  business 
at  that  camping-place  had  not  yet  been  completed. 

Wlen  the  two  guards  had  again  resumed  their  formei 


THE  SHEIK'S  PLAN  OF  REVENGE.  185 

Btation3  in  front  of  the  line,  —  as  before  with  their  muskets 
at  full  cock,  —  Golah  advanced  towards  the  woman,  who, 
disengaging  herself  from  her  children,  stood  up  at  his  ap 
proach. 

Then  succeeded  a  moment  of  intense  interest. 

Was  he  going  to  kill  her  ? 

If  so,  in  what  manner  ? 

All  looked  on  with  painful  anticipation  of  some  dire 
event. 

It  soon  transpired.  The  woman  was  seized  by  Golah 
Limself ;  dragged  towards  the  pits  that  had  been  dug ; 
and  thrust  into  one  of  them.  The  slave  who  wielded  the 
spade  was  then  commanded  to  fill  up  the  exca  nation  around 
her. 

Terence  w^as  the  first  to  speak. 

"  God  help  her !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  "  the  monster  is  going 
to  bury  her  alive  !     Can't  we  save  her  ?  " 

"  We  are  not  men  if  we  do  not  try ! "  exclaimed  Harry, 
as  he  suddenly  sprang  to  his  feet. 

His  example  was  immediately  followed  by  his  white  com- 
panions. 

The  two  muskets  were  instantly  directed  towards  them ; 
but  at  a  shout  from  Golah  their  muzzles  were  as  quickly 
dropped. 

The  sheik's  son  then,  at  his  father's  command,  ran  to  the 
pit  to  secure  the  woman,  while  Golah  himself  rushed  for- 
ward to  meet  the  helpless  men  who  were  advancing  towards 
him. 

In  an  instant  the  four  were  thrown  prostrate  to  the  earth. 

With  their  hands  tied,  the  powerful  sheik  upset  them  as 
easily  as  though  they  had  been  bags  of  sand. 

Raising  Harry  by  the  hair  of  his  head  with  one  hand  and 
Terence  with  the  other,  he  dragged  them  back  to  their  places 
in  the  line  where  they  had  been  already  seated. 

Sailor  Bill  saved  himself  from  like  treatment  by  roiling 


186  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

over  and  ovor  until  he  had  regained  his  former  place.  CoIi» 
was  allowed  to  lie  on  the  ground  where  the  sheik  had 
knocked  him  over. 

Golah  now  returned  to  the  pit  where  the  woman  stood 
half  buried. 

She  made  no  resistance  —  she  uttered  no  complaint  —  hut 
seemed  calmly  to  resign  herself  to  a  fate  that  could  not  be 
averted.  Golah  apparently  did  not  intend  to  behold  hei 
die,  for,  when  the  earth  was  filled  in  around  her  body,  her 
head  still  remained  above  ground.  She  was  to  be  starved  to 
death  !  As  the  sheik  was  turning  away  to  attend  to  other 
matters,  the  woman  spoke.  Her  words  were  few.  and  pro- 
duced no  effect  upon  him.  They  did,  however,  tipon  the 
Krooman,  whose  eyes  were  seen  to  fill  with  tears  that  rapidly 
chased  each  other  down  his  mahogany-colored  cheeks. 

Colin,  who  seemed  to  notice  everything  except  the  fate 
threatening  himself,  observed  the  Ki'ooman's  excitement, 
and  inquired  its  cause. 

"  She  ask  him  to  be  kind  to  her  httle  boy,"  said  the  man, 
in  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion. 

Are  tears  unmanly  ?  —  No. 

The  shining  drops  that  rolled  from  that  man's  eyes,  and 
sparkled  adown  his  dusky  cheeks,  on  hearing  the  unfortu- 
nate woman's  prayer  for  her  children,  proved  that  he  was 
not  a  brute,  but  a  man,  —  a  man  with  a  soul  that  millions 
might  envy. 

After  leaving  the  place  where  the  woman  was  buried, 
Golah  walked  up  to  Colin  ;  and,  di'agging  him  to  his  feet, 
led  him  away  to  the  other  pit. 

His  intentions  were  now  evident  to  all.  The  two  indi- 
viduals, who  had  aroused  his  anger  and  jealousy,  were  to 'be 
left  near  each  other,  buried  alive,  to  perish  in  this  fearful 
fashion. 

"  Colin  !  Colin  !  what  can  we  do  to  save  you  ? "  ex 
claimed  Harry,  in  a  tone  expressing  despair  and  anguish. 


THE  SHEIK'S  PLAN  OF  REVENGE.  387 

*  Nothing,"  answered  Colin  ;  "  don  t  attempt  it,  or  you  will 
only  bring  trouble  on  yourselves.     Leave  me  to  my  fate." 

At  this  moment  the  speaker  was  thrown  mio  tlie  pit,  and 
held  in  an  upright  attitude  by  Golah,  while  the  black  slave 
proceeded  to  fill-in  the  earth  around  him. 

Following  the  philosophical  example  set  by  the  woman, 
Colin  made  no  useless  resistance  ;  and  was  soon  submerged 
under  the  sand  piled  up  to  his  shoulders.  His  companions 
Bat  gazing  with  speechless  horror,  all  suffering  the  combined 
anguish  of  shame,  regret,  and  despair. 

The  sheik  was  now  ready  to  depart ;  and  ordered  the 
glave  who  had  been  assisting  him  in  his  diabolical  work  to 
mount  the  camel  formerly  ridden  by  the  woman  who  waa 
thus  entombed.  The  black  obeyed,  pleased  to  think  that  his 
late  task  was  to  be  so  agreeably  rewarded ;  but  a  sudden 
change  came  over  his  features  when  Golah  and  Fatima 
passed  up  the  three  childi-en,  and  placed  them  under  his 
care. 

Golah  had  but  one  more  act  to  perform  before  leaving  the 
spot.  It  was  an  act  worthy  of  himself,  although  suggested 
by  Fatima. 

After  filling  a  bowl  about  half  full  of  water,  he  placed  it 
midway  between  Colin  and  the  woman,  but  so  distant  from 
each  that  neither  could  possibly  reach  it ! 

This  Satanic  idea  was  executed  with  the  design  of  tantaliz- 
ing the  sufferers  in  their  dying  hours  with  the  sight  of  that 
element  the  want  of  which  would  soon  cause  them  the  most 
acute  anguish.  By  the  side  of  the  bowl  he  also  placed  a 
handful  of  figs. 

"  There,"  he  tauntingly  exclaimed ;  '"  I  leave  you  two 
together,  and  with  more  food  and  drink  than  you  will  ever 
con8r.me.  Am  I  not  kind  ?  What  more  can  you  ask  ? 
Bismillah  !  God  is  great,  and  Mahomet  is  his  prophet ;  an  (J 
I  am  Golah,  the  kind,  the  just !  " 

Saying  this^  he  gave  orders  to  resume  the  march. 


188  THE   BOY  SLAVES. 

"  Don't  move  !  "  exclaimed  Terence  ;  "  we  will  give  hiai 
Bome  trouble  yet." 

"Of  course  we'll  not  go,  and  leave  Colin  there,"  said 
Harry.  "  The  sheik  is  too  avaricious  to  kill  all  his  slaves. 
Don't  move  a  step,  Bill,  and  we  may  have  Colly  liberated 
yet." 

"  I  shall  do  as  you  say,  ov  coorse,"  said  Bill ;  "  but  I  ex- 
pect we  shall  'ave  to  go.  Golah  has  got  a  way  of  making  a 
man  travel,  whether  he  be  willing  or  not." 

All  started  forward  from  the  place  but  t^e  three  white 
slaves  and  the  two  wliom  Golah  intended  to  remain. 

"  Cheer  up,  lad,"  said  Bill  to  Colin ;  "  we  '11  never  go, 
and  leave  you  there." 

"  Go  on,  go  on  !  "  exclaimed  Colin.  "  You  can  do  me  no 
good,  and  Avill  only  injure  yourselves." 

Golah  had  mounted  his  camel  and  ridden  forward,  leaving 
to  his  two  guards  the  task  of  driving  on  the  slaves  ;  and,  as 
if  apprehensive  of  trouble  from  them,  he  had  directed  Ter- 
ence, Harry,  Bill,  and  the  Krooman  to  be  brought  on  with 
their  hands  tied  behind  them. 

The  three  refused  to  move ;  and  when  all  efforts  to  get 
tliera  on  had  been  tried  in  vain,  the  guards  made  a  loud 
appeal  to  their  sheik. 

Golah  came  riduig  back  in  a  great  rage. 

Dismounting  from  his  camel  he  drew  the  ramrod  from  hif 
musket;  then,  rushing  up  to  Terence,  who  was  the  near- 
est to  him,  administered  to  him  a  shower  of  blows  that 
changed  the  color  of  his  shirt  from  an  untidy  white  to  the 
darker  hue  of  blood. 

The  two  guards,  following  the  example  of  their  lord  and 
master,  commenced  beating  Harry  and  Bill,  who,  unable 
to  make  any  resistance,  had  to  endure  the  torture  in  silence. 

"  Go  on,  my  friends ! "  exclaimed  Colin  ;  "  for  God's  sake,- 
go,  and  leave  me !  You  cannot  do  anything  to  avert  my 
fete  I" 


THE  SHEIK'S  PLAN  OF  REVENGE.  181 

Colin's  entreaties,  as  well  as  the  torture  from  the  blows 
tliey  received,  were  alike  without  effect.  His  shij)matea 
could  not  bring  themselves  to  desert  their  old  comrade,  and 
leave  him  to  the  terrible  death  that  threatened  him. 

Rushing  up  to  Bill  and  ITany,  Golah  caught  hold  of  each, 
and  hurled  them  to  tie  ground  by  the  side  of  Terence. 
Keeping  all  three  together,  he  now  ordered  a  camel  to  be 
led  up ;  and  the  order  was  instantly  obeyed  by  one  of  the 
guards.  The  halter  was  then  taken  from  the  head  of  the 
animal. 

"  We  'ave  got  to  go  now,"  said  Bill.  "  He  's  going  to  try 
the  same  dodge  as  beat  me  the  other  day.  I  shall  save  him 
the  trouble." 

Bill  tried  to  rise,  but  was  prevented.  He  had  refused  to 
walk  when  earnestly  urged  to  do  so ;  and  now,  when  he  was 
willing  CO  go  on,  he  had  to  wait  the  pleasure  of  his  owner 
as  to  the  manner  in  which  his  journey  should  be  continued. 

While  Golah  was  fastening  the  rope  to  Harry's  hands,  the 
sharp  shrill  voice  of  Fatima  called  his  attention  to  some  of 
the  people  who  had  gone  on  before. 

The  two  women,  who  led  the  camels  loaded  with  articles 
taken  from  the  wreck,  had  advanced  about  three  hundred 
yards  from  the  place  ;  and  were  now,  along  with  tlie  black 
Bla't  es,  sur  -ounded  by  a  party  of  men  mounted  on  raaherriei 
and  horses. 


THE  BOY  SLAVES. 
CHAPTER    LIII. 

CAfTURED    AGAIN. 

G^feAH'S  fear  of  the  Arabs  met  by  the  well  had  not 
been  without  a  cause.  His  forced  night  march,  to 
avoid  meeting  them  again,  had  not  secured  the  object  for 
which  it  had  been  made. 

Approaching  from  the  direction  of  the  rising  sun,  the 
Arabs  had  not  been  discovered  in  the  distance  ;  and  Golah, 
occupied  in  overcoming  the  obstinate  resistance  of  the  white 
slaves,  had  allowed  them  to  come  quite  near  before  they 
had  been  observed  by  him. 

Leaving  his  captives,  the  sheik  seized  his  musket ;  and, 
followed  by  his  son  and  brother-in-law,  rushed  forward  to 
protect  his  wives  and  property. 

He  was  too  late.  Before  he  could  reach  them  they  were 
in  the  possession  of  others ;  and  as  he  drew  near  the  spot 
where  they  had  been  captured,  he  saw  a  dozen  muskets  pre- 
sented towards  himself,  and  heard  some  one  loudly  com- 
manding him,  in  the  name  of  the  Prophet,  to  approach  in 
peace ! 

Golah  had  the  discretion  to  yield  to  a  destiny  that  could 
not  be  averted,  —  the  misfortune  of  being  made  a  prisoner 
and  plundered  at  the  same  time. 

Calmly  saying,  "  It  is  the  will  of  God,"  he  sat  down,  and 
invited  his  captors  to  a  conference  on  the  terms  of  capitu- 
lation. 

As  soon  as  the  caravan  had  fallen  into  the  possession  of 
the  robbers,  the  Krooman's  hands  were  unbound  by  his  com- 
panion, and  he  hastened  to  the  relief  of  the  white  slaves. 

"  Golah  no  our  massa  now,"  said  he,  while  untying  Har- 
ry's wrists  ;  "  our  massa  is  Ai-ab  dat  take  us  norf.     We  ge» 


CAPTURED  AGAIN.  191 

free.  Dat  why  dis  Arab  no  buy  us,  —  he  know  U6  he  hah 
for  noting." 

The  cords  were  quickly  untied,  and  the  attention  of  the 
others  was  now  turned  to  disinterring  Colin  and  the  woman 
from  their  living  graves. 

To  do  this,  Harry  wanted  to  use  the  water-bowl  the  sheik 
had  left  for  the  purpose  of  tantaUzing  his  victims  with  the 
eight  of  its  contents. 

"  Here,  drink  this  water,"  said  he,  holding  the  vessel  to 
Colin's  lips.     "  I  want  to  make  use  of  the  dish." 

"  No,  no ;  dig  me  out  without  that,"  answered  Colin. 
"  Leave  the  water  as  it  is ;  I  have  a  particular  use  for  it 
when  I  get  free.     I  wish  the  old  sheik  to  see  me  drink  it." 

Bill,  Harry,  and  the  Krooman  set  to  work :  and  Colin 
and  the  woman  were  soon  uncovered  and  dragged  out.  Ter- 
ence was  then  awakened  to  consciousness  by  a  few  drops  of 
the  water  poured  over  his  face. 

Owing  to  the  cramped  position  in  which  he  had  been 
placed  and  so  long  held,  Colin  was  for  a  few  minutes  un- 
able to  walk.  They  waited,  to  give  him  time  to  recover  the 
use  of  his  limbs.  The  slave  who  had  the  care  of  the  wo- 
man's children  was  now  seen  coming  back  with  them,  and 
the  woman  ran  to  meet  him. 

The  delight  of  the  wretched  mother  at  again  embracing 
her  offspring  was  so  great,  that  the  gentle-souled  Krooman 
was  once  more  affected  to  tears. 

In  the  conference  with  the  Arab  robbers,  Golah  was  un- 
able to  obtain  the  terms  he  fancied  a  sheik  should  be  en- 
titled to. 

They  offered  him  two  camels  and  the  choice  of  one  wife 
out  of  the  three,  on  condition  he  should  go  back  to  his  own 
country,  and  return  to  the  desert  no  more. 

These  terms  Golah  indignantly  refused,  and  declared  that 
he  would  rather  die  in  defence  of  his  rights. 

Golah  was  a  pure  negro,  and  one  of  a  class  c  f  traders 


192  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

aiuch  disliked  by  the  Arabs.  He  was  a  lawless  intruder  on 
Iheir  gi-ounds,  —  a  trespasser  upon  their  special  domain,  the 
Great  Desert.  He  had  just  acquired  a  large  amount,  of 
wealth  in  goods  and  slaves,  that  had  been  cast  on  their  coast ; 
and  these  they  were  determined  he  should  not  carry  back 
with  him  to  his  own  country. 

Though  he  was  as  much  a  robber  as  themselves,  they  had 
no  sympathies  with  him,  and  would  not  be  satisfied  with 
merely  a  share  of  his  plunder.  They  professed  to  under- 
stand all  his  doings  in  the  past ;  and  accused  him  of  not 
being  a  fair  trader  I 

They  told  him  that  he  never  came  upon  the  desert  with 
merchandise  to  exchange,  but  only  with  camels,  to  be  driven 
away,  laden  with  property  justly  belonging  to  them,  the  real 
owners  of  the  land. 

They  denied  his  being  a  true  believer  in  the  Prophet ; 
and  concluded  their  talk  by  declaring  that  he  should  be 
thankful  for  the  liberal  terms  they  had  offered  him. 

Golah's  opposition  to  their  proposal  became  so  demonstra- 
tive, that  the  Arabs  were  obliged  to  disarm  and  bind  him ; 
though  this  was  not  accomplished  without  a  fierce  struggle, 
in  which  several  of  his  adversaries  were  overthrown. 

A  blow  on  the  head  with  the  stock  of  a  musket  at  length 
reduced  him  to  subjection,  after  which  his  hands  were  fast 
tied  behind  his  back. 

During  the  struggle,  Golah's  son  was  prevented  from  in- 
terfering in  behalf  of  his  father,  by  the  black  slaves  who 
had  been  so  long  the  victims  of  his  cruel  care ;  while  tiio 
brother-in-law,  as  well  as  Fatima  and  the  third  wife,  re- 
mained passive  spectators  of  the  scene. 

On  Golah  bemg  secured,  the  white  slaves,  with  old  Bill 
at  their  head,  came  up  and  voluntarily  surrendered  them- 
Belves  to  their  new  masters. 

Colin  had  in  his  hands  the  bowl  of  water,  and  tlie  dried 
figs  that  had  beon  placed  beside  it. 


CAPTURED   AGAIN.  193 

Advftnoing  towards  Golah,  he  held  the  figs  up  before  his 
ejes,  and  then,  with  a  nod  and  an  expression  that  seemed 
to  say,  "  Thank  you  for  this,"  he  raised  the  bowl  to  his  lips 
with  the  intention  of  drinking. 

The  expression  on  tlie  sheik's  features  became  Satanic, 
but  suddenly  changed  into  a  glance  of  pleasure,  as  one  of 
the  Arabs  snatched  the  vessel  out  of  Colin's  hands,  and  in- 
stantly drank  off  its  contents. 

Colin  received  the  lesson  meekly,  and  said  not  a  word. 

The  Arabs  speedily  commenced  making  ai-rangements 
for  leaving  the  place.  The  first  move  was  to  establish  a 
communication  between  Golah  and  the  saddle  of  one  of  his 
camels. 

This  was  accomplished  by  using  a  rope  as  a  medium ;  and 
the  black  giant  was  compelled  to  walk  after  the  animal  with 
his  hands  tied  behind  him, — in  the  same  fashion  as  he  had 
lately  set  for  Sailor  Bill. 

His  wives  and  slaves  seemed  to  comprehend  the  change 
in  their  fortunes,  and  readily  adapted  their  conduct  to  the 
circumstances. 

The  greatest  transformation  of  all  was  observable  in  the 
behavior  of  the  favorite  Fatima. 

Since  his  capture  she  had  kept  altogether  aloof  from  her 
late  lord,  and  showed  not  the  slightest  sympathy  for  his  mis 
fortunes. 

By  her  actions  she  seemed  to  say :  "  The  mighty  Go- 
lah has  fixllen,  and  is  no  longer  worthy  of  my  distinguished 
regard." 

Very  different  was  the  behavior  of  the  woman  whom  the 
cruel  sheik  would  have  left  to  die  a  Ungering  death.  Her 
husband's  misfortune  seemed  to  have  awakened  within  hes' 
a  love  for  the  father  of  her  children :  and  her  features,  as 
she  gazed  upon  the  captive,  —  who,  although  defeated,  was 
unsubdued  in  spirit,  —  wore  a  mingled  expression  of  pity 
and  grief 

9  IS 


194  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

Hungry,  tliirstj,  weary  and  bleeding  —  enslaved  on  the 
Great  Desert,  still  uncertain  of  what  was  to  be  their  fate, 
and  doubtful  of  surviving  much  longer  the  hardships  the;^ 
might  be  forced  to  endure  —  our  adventurers  were  far  from 
being  hajjpy;  but,  with  all  their  misery,  they  felt  joyful 
when  comparing  their  present  prospects  with  those  before 
them  but  au  hour  ago. 

With  the  exception  of  Golah,  the  Arabs  had  no  trouble 
with  their  captives.  The  white  and  black  slaves  knew  they 
were  travelhng  towards  the  well ;  and  the  prospect  of  again 
having  plenty  of  water  was  suflicient  inducement  to  make 
them  put  forth  all  their  strengLb  in  following  the  camels. 

Early  in  the  evening  a  short  halt  was  made ;  when  each 
of  the  company  was  served  with  about  half  a  pint  of  water 
from  the  skins.  The  Arabs,  exa^e^t'ug  to  reach  the  well 
soon  after,  could  afford  to  be  thus  liberal ;  but  the  favor  so 
granted,  though  thankfully  received  by  tb<i  slaves  was  scorn- 
fully refused  by  their  late  master — the  giant  bodied  and 
Btrong-minded   Golah. 

To  accept  of  food  and  drink  from  hi<?  enemies  in  his 
present  humihating  position  —  bound  and  dragged  along 
like  a  slave  —  was  a  degradation  to  which  he  scorned  to 
submit. 

On  Golah  contemptuously  refusing  the  proffered  cup  of 
water,  the  Arab  who  offered  it  simply  ejaculated,  "  Thani 
God  !  "  and  then  drank  it  himself. 

The  well  was  reached  about  an  nour  after  midnight ;  and 
after  quenching  their  thirst,  the  slaves  were  allowed  to  go 
to  rest  and  sleep,  —  a  prizilege  they  stood  sorely  in  need  ot 
having  been  over  thirty  hours  afoot,  upon  their  cheerlesi 
uid  aiuuous  journey. 


AN  U]!iFAITHFUL  WIFE.  19.1 

CHAPTER    LIV. 

AN    UNFAITHFUL    AVIFE. 

ON  wakine  up  the  next  morning,  our  adventurers  were 
gratified  with  a  bit  of  intelligence  communicated  by 
the  Krooman :  that  they  were  to  have  a  day  of  rest.  A 
camel  was  also  to  be  killed  for  food. 

The  Arabs  were  going  to  divide  amongst  themselves  the 
slaves  taken  from  Golah ;  and  the  opportunity  was  not  to 
be  lost  of  recruiting  their  strength  for  a  long  journey. 

As  Sailor  Bill  reflected  upon  their  sufferings  since  leaving 
that  same  place  two  days  before,  he  expressed  regret  that 
they  had  not  been  captured  before  leaving  the  well,  and  thus 
spa7'^d  the  horrors  they  had  endured. 

Stimulated  by  the  remembrance  of  so  much  suffering 
needlessly  incurred,  he  asked  the  Krooman  to  explain  the 
conduct  of  their  new  masters. 

The  Krooman's  first  attempt  at  satisfying  his  curiosity 
was  to  state,  that  the  Arabs  had  acted  after  a  manner  pecu- 
liar to  themselves,  —  in  other  words,  that  it  was  "a  way 
they  had." 

The  old  sailor  was  not  satisfied  with  this  answer ;  and 
pressed  for  a  further  explanation. 

He  was  then  told  that  the  robbers  on  the  desert  were  al- 
ways in  danger  of  meeting  several  caravans  at  a  watering- 
place  ;  and  that  any  act  of  violence  committed  there  would 
bring  upon  the  perpetrators  everlasting  disgrace,  as  well  as 
the  enmity  of  all  desert  tiavellers.  The  Krooman  ex})laiued 
himself  by  saying,  that  should  a  caravan  of  a  liundred  men 
arrive  at  the  well,  they  would  not  now  interfere  in  behalf  of 
Golah,  but  would  oidy  recognize  him  as  a  slave.  On  the 
contrary,  had  they  found  him  engaged  in  actual  strife  with 
the  robbers,^  they  would  have  assisted  him. 


i    o  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

This  was  salisfactcry  to  all  but  Bill.  Even  Colin,  who 
had  been  buried  ali-re,  and  Terence,  who  had  been  so  un- 
mercifully beaten,  were  pleased  at  their  change  of  masters 
on  any  terms  ;  but  the  old  sailor,  sailor-like,  would  not  have 
ceea  himself  without  some  cause  of  coniplauit. 

Before  their  newly  acquired  wealth  could  be  divided,  the 
Arabs  had  to  come  to  some  resolution  as  to  the  disposal 
A  the  black  sheik ;  who  still  remained  so  unmanageable 
that  he  had  to  be  kept  bound,  with  a  guard  placed  over 
bim. 

The  Arabs  could  not  agree  amongst  themselves  as  to 
what  should  be  done  with  him.  Some  of  them  urged  that, 
despite  the  color  of  his  skin,  he  might  be  a  true  believer  in 
the  Prophet ;  and  that,  notwithstanding  his  manner  of  trad- 
ing and  acquiring  wealth  —  a  system  nearly  as  dishonest  aa 
their  own  —  he  was  entitled  to  his  liberty,  with  a  certain 
portion  of  his  property. 

Others  claimed  that  they  had  a  perfect  right  to  add  him 
and  his  large  family  to  the  number  of  their  slaves. 

He  was  not  an  Arab,  but  an  Ethiopian,  like  most  of  hig 
following ;  and,  as  a  slave,  would  bring  a  high  price  in  any 
of  the  markets  where  men  were  bought  and  sold. 

Those  who  argued  thus  were  in  the  minority ;  and  Golah 
was  at  length  offered  his  wives  and  their  children,  with  a 
couple  of  camels  and  his  scimitar. 

This  offer  the  black  sheik  indignantly  refused,  —  much  to 
the  astonishment  of  those  who  had  been  so  eloquent  in  his 
behalf. 

His  decision  produced  anotlier  debate ;  in  which  llie  opin- 
ions of  several  of  his  captors  underwent  such  a  change,  that 
it  was  finally  determined  to  consider  him  as  one  of  the 
elaves. 

Every  article  that  had  been  ol)taitied  from  tlie  wreck  wa» 
now  exposed  to  view,  and  a  fixed  price  set  upon  it. 

The  slaves  were  carefully  examined  and  valued,  —  as  well 


AN  UNFAITHFUL  ^VIFE.  197 

as  the  camels,  muskets,^  and  everytJiing  that  had  belonged  to 
Golah  or  his  dependantSv 

When  these  preliminaiy  arrangements  had  been  com 
j)leted,  the  Arabs  proceeded  to  an  equitable  partition  of  tho 
property. 

This  proved  a  very  difficult  matter  to  manage,  and  occu- 
pied their  time  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  Three  or  four  would 
covet  the  same  article  ;.  and  long  and  noisy  discussions  would 
take  i^lace  before  the  dispute  could  be  settled  to  their  mutual 
satisfaction. 

The  Krooman,  who  understood  the  desert  language,  was 
attentive  to  all  that  transpired  ;  and  from  time  to  time  in- 
formed the  white  slaves  of  what  was  being  done. 

At  an  early  period  in  the  discussions,  he  discovered  that 
each  of  the  four  was  to  fall  to  different  masters. 

"  You  and  me,"  said  he  to  Harry,  "  we  no  got  two  mas- 
sas  —  only  one." 

His  words  were  soon  after  proved  to  be  true.  They  were 
carried  apart  from  each  other,  evidently  with  the  designs  of 
being  appropriated  by  different  owners ;  and  the  fear  that 
they  might  also  be  separated  again  came  over  them. 

When  the  slaves,  camels,  tents,  and  articles  that  had  been 
gathered  from  the  wreck  were  distributed  amongst  the 
eleven  Arabs,  each  one  took  the  charge  of  his  own  ;  but 
there  still  remained  Golah,  his  wives  and  their  children,  to 
be  disposed  of. 

No  one  seemed  desirous  of  becoming  the  owner  of  the 
black  sheik  and  his  wives.  Even  those  who  had  said  that  he 
would  make  a  valuable  slave,  appeared  unwilling  to  take 
him,  although  induced  to  do  so  by  the  taunts  of  their  com- 
panions. 

The  fact  was,  that  they  were  afraid  of  hira.  He  would 
be  too  difficult  to  manage  ;  and  none  of  them  wished  to  be 
the  master  of  one  who  obstinately  refused  both  food  and 
driak,  and  who  so  defiantly  invoked  upon  the  heads  of  his 


198  THE   BOY   SLAVES. 

captors  the  curse  of  Mahomet,  and  swore  by  the  beard  of  the 
Prophet  that  the  moment  his  hands  were  free,  he  would  kill 
the  man  who  sliould  dare  to  own  or  claim  him  as  a  slave. 

Golah,  with  all  his  faults,  was  neither  cunning  nor  deceit 
ful,  and,  having  a  s)  irit  too  great  to  affect  submission,  he  did 
not  intend  to  yield. 

He  was  arrogant,  cruel,  avaricious,  and  vindictive;  but 
the  wrongs  he  did  were  always  accomplished  in  a  plain, 
open-handed  way,  and  never  by  stratagem  or  treachery. 

By  accepting  the  terms  the  Arabs  had  offered  him,  his 
Btrength,  courage,  and  unconquerable  will  might  afterwards 
have  enabled  him  to  obtain  revenge  upon  his  captors,  and 
regain  a  portion  of  his  property ;  but  it  was  not  in  his  na- 
ture to  sham  submission,  even  for  the  sake  of  gaining  a 
future  advantage. 

As  not  one  of  the  Arabs  was  willing  to  accept  of  him,  at 
the  value  at  which  he  had  been  appraised,  or  to  allow  an- 
other to  have  him  for  less,  it  was  finally  decided  that  he 
should  be  retained  as  the  common  property  of  all,  until  he 
could  be  sold  to  some  other  tribe,  when  a  distribution  might 
be  made  of  the  proceeds  of  the  sale.  His  wives  and  children 
were  to  be  disposed  of  in  like  manner. 

This  arrangement  was  satisfactory  to  all  but  Golah  him- 
?elf,  who  expressed  himself  greatly  displeased  with  it.  Nev- 
ertheless, he  seemed  a  little  disposed  to  yield  to  circum- 
stances ;  for,  soon  after  the  decision  of  his  captors  was  made 
known  to  him,  he  called  to  Fatima,  and  commanded  her  to 
bring  him  a  bowl  of  water. 

The  favorite  reflised,  under  the  plea  that  she  had  been 
forbidden  to  give  him  anything. 

This  was  trae  ;  for,  as  he  had  declined  to  accept  of  any- 
thing at  the  hands  of  those  claiming  to  be  his  masters,  they 
had  determined  to  starve  him  into  submission. 

Fatima's  refusal  to  obey  him  caused  Golah  his  greatest 
chagrin.     Ever  accustomed  to  prompt  and  slavish  obedienc« 


AH  UNFAITHFUL   WIFE.  199 

from  ctbers,  tlie  idea  of  his  own  wife  —  his  favorite  too — 
denylDg  his  modest  request,  ahuost  di-ove  him  frantic. 

"  I  am  your  husbnnd,"  he  cried,  "  and  whom  should  you 
obey  but  me  ?  Fatima !  I  command  you  to  bring  me  somo 
water ! " 

"  And  I  command  you  not  to  do  it,"  said  the  Arab  sheik, 
who,  standing  near  by,  had  heard  the  order. 

Fatima  was  an  artful,  selfish  woman,  who  had  gained  some 
influence  over  her  husband  by  flattering  liis  vanity,  and  pro- 
fessing a  love  she  had  never  felt. 

She  had  acted  with  slavish  obedience  to  him  when  he  was 
all-powerful ;  but  now  that  he  was  himself  a  slave,  her  sub- 
mission had  been  transferred  with  perfect  facility  to  the 
chief  of  the  band  who  had  captured  him. 

It  was  now  that  Golah  began  to  realize  the  fact  that  he 
was  a  conquered  man. 

His  heart  was  nearly  bursting  with  rage,  shame,  and  dis- 
appointment;  for  nothing  could  so  plainly  awaken  him  to 
the  comprehension  of  his  real  position,  as  the  fact  that  Fa- 
tima, his  favorite,  she  who  had  ever  professed  for  him  so 
mucli  love  and  obedience,  now  refused  to  attend  to  his  sim- 
plest request. 

After  making  one  more  violent  and  ineffectual  effort  at 
breaking  his  bonds,  he  sank  down  upon  the  earth  and  re- 
mained silent  —  bitterly  contemplating  the  degraded  condi- 
tion into  which  he  had  fallen. 

The  Krooman,  who  was  a  very  sharp  observer  of  passing 
events,  and  had  an  extensive  knowledge  of  peculiar  speci- 
mens of  human  nature,  closely  watched  the  behavior  of  the 
black  sheik. 

"  He  no  like  us,"  he  remarket!  to  the  whites.  '  He  nebb« 
be  slave.     Bom-by  ycu  see  him  go  dead." 


200  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER    LV. 

TWO    FAITHFUL    WIVES. 

WHILE  Golali's  mind  appeared  to  be  stunned  almoat 
to  unconsciousness  by  the  refusal  of  Fatima  to 
obey  his  orders,  his  other  two  wives  were  moving  about,  as 
if  engaged  in  some  domestic  duty. 

Presently  the  woman  he  had  buried  in  the  sand  was  seen 
going  towards  him  with  a  calabash  of  water,  followed  by  the 
other  who  carried  a  dish  of  sangJeh. 

One  of  the  Arabs  perceiving  their  intention,  ran  up,  and, 
in  an  angry  tone,  commanded  them  to  retire  to  their  tents. 
The  two  women  persisted  in  their  design,  and  in  order  to 
prevent  them,  without  using  violence,  the  Arab  offered  to 
serve  the  food  and  drink  himself. 

This  they  permitted  him  to  do ;  but  when  the  water  was 
offered  to  Golah  it  was  again  refused. 

The  black  sheik  would  not  receive  either  food  or  drink 
from  the  hand  of  a  master. 

The  sangleh  was  then  consumed  by  the  Arab  with  a  real 
or  sham  profession  of  gratitude ;  the  water  was  poured  into 
a  bucket,  and  given  to  one  of  the  camels  ;  and  the  two  cal- 
abashes were  returned  to  the  women. 

Neither  a  keen  longing  for  food,  nor  a  burning  thirst 
for  water,  could  divert  Golah's  thoughts  from  the  contem- 
plation of  sometliing  that  was  causing  his  soul  extreme 
anguish. 

His  physical  tortures  seemed,  for  the  time,  extinguished 
by  some  deep  mental  agony. 

Again  the  wives  —  the  unloved  ones  —  advanced  towardi 
him,  bearing  water  and  food ;  and  again  the  Arab  ste})pe<3 
forward  to  intercept  them.  Tlie  two  women  persisted  id 
their  design,  and,  while  opposuig  the  efforts  of  the  Ai'ab  to 


TWO  FAITHFUL  WIVES  201 

iurn  them  back,  tliey  called  on  the  two  youths,  the  relatiyei 
of  the  black  sheik,  as  also  on  Fatima,  to  assist  them. 

Of  the  thi-ce  persons  thus  appealed  to,  only  Golah's  son 
obeyed  their  summons ;  but  his  attempt  to  aid  the  women 
was  immediately  frustrated  by  the  Arab,  who  claimed  him 
as  a  slave,  and  who  now  commanded  him  to  stand  aside. 
His  command  having  no  effect,  the  Arab  proceeded  to  use 
force.  At  the  risk  of  his  life  the  youth  resisted.  He  dared 
to  use  violence  against  a  master  —  a  crime  that  on  the  des- 
ert demands  the  punishment  of  death. 

Aroused  from  his  painful  reverie  by  the  commotion  going 
on  around  him,  Golah,  seeing  the  folly  of  the  act,  shouted  to 
his  son  to  be  calm,  and  yieM  obedience  ;  but  the  youth,  not 
heeding  the  command  of  his  ftither,  continued  his  resistance. 
He  was  just  on  the  point  of  being  cut  down,  when  the  Kroo- 
man  ran  forward,  and  pronouncing  in  Arabic  two  words  sig- 
nifying "  father  and  son,"  saved  the  youth's  life.  The  Arab 
robber  had  sufficient  respect  for  the  relationship  to  stay  his 
hand  from  committing  murder ;  but  to  prevent  any  further 
trouble  with  the  young  fellow,  he  was  seized  by  several 
others,  fast  bound,  and  flung  to  the  ground  by  the  side  of 
his  father. 

The  two  women,  still  persisting  in  their  design  to  relieve 
the  wants  of  their  unfortunate  husband,  were  then  knocked 
down,  kicked,  beaten,  and  finally  dragged  inside  the  tents. 

This  scene  was  witnessed  by  Fatima  ;  who,  instead  of 
showing  sympathy,  appeared  highly  amused  by  it,  —  so  much 
so  as  even  to  give  way  to  laughter  !  Her  unnatural  behavior 
once  more  roused  the  indignation  of  her  husband. 

The  wrong  of  being  robbed  —  the  humiliation  of  being 
bound —  the  knowledge  that  he  himself,  along  with  his  chil- 
dren, would  be  sold  into  slavery  —  the  torture  of  hunger  and 
thirst —  were  sources  of  misery  no  longer  heeded  by  Iiira; 
all  were  fofgotten  in  the  contemplation  of  a  far  great«'r  %" 
guish. 


202  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Fatima,  the  favorite,  the  woman  to  where,  his  v?ord  should 
have  beeu  law,  —  the  woman  who  had  always  j)retended  to 
think  him  something  more  than  mortal,  — now  not  only  shun- 
ning lut  despising  liim  in  the  midst  of  his  misfortunes! 

This  knowledge  did  more  towards  subduing  the  giant  than 
all  his  other  sufferings  eorabined. 

"  Old  Golah  looks  very  down  in  the  mouth,"  remarked 
Terence  to  his  companions.  "If  it  was  not  for  the  beating 
he  gave  me  yesterday,  I  could  almost  pity  him.  I  made  an 
oath,  at  the  time  he  was  thwacking  me  with  the  ramrod,  that 
if  my  hands  were  ever  again  at  liberty,  I  'd  see  if  it  was 
possible  to  kill  him ;  but  now  that  they  are  free,  and  his  are 
bound,  I  've  not  the  heart  to  touch  him,  bad  as  he  is." 

"That  is  right,  Terry,"  said  Bill;  "it's  only  wimin  an' 
bits  o'  boys  as  throws  wather  on  a  drowned  rat,  —  not  as  I 
aiane  to  say  the  owld  rascal  is  past  mischief  yet.  I  believe 
he  '11  do  some  more  afore  the  Devil  Uikes  'im  intirely  ;  but  I 
mane  that  Him  as  sits  up  aloft  is  able  to  do  His  own  work 
witliout  your  heljting  Him. 

"  You  speak  truth,  Bill,"  said  Harry ;  "  I  don't  think 
there  is  any  necessity  for  seeking  revenge  of  Golah  for  his 
cruel  treatment  of  us ;  he  is  now  as  ill  oiY  as  the  rest  of  us." 

"  What  is  that  you  say  ?  "  inquired  Colin.  "  Golah  like 
one  of  us ?  Nothing  of  the  kind.  He  has  moie  pluck,  en- 
durance, obstinacy,  and  true  manly  spirit  about  him  than 
there  is  in  the  four  of  us  combined." 

"  Was  his  attempt  to  starve  you  dictated  by  a  manly  spir- 
it?" asked  Harry. 

"  Perliaps  not,  but  it  was  the  fault  ol'  the  circumstancog 
under  which  he  has  been  educated.  I  don  't  think  of  that 
now ;  my  admiration  of  the  man  is  too  strong.  Look  at  his 
refusing  that  di-ink  of  water  when  it  had  been  several  times 
offered  hiin  ! " 

"  Tlusre  is  something  wonderful  about  him,  certainly,"  as* 
seuted  Harry;  "but  1  don't  sec  anytliing  in  him  to  admire." 


TWO  FAITHFUL  WIVES  203 

"No  more  do  I,"  said  Bill.  "  He  might  he  as  comfortable 
cow  as  we  are  ;  aud  I  say  a  man  's  a  fool  as  won't  he  'appy 
when  he  can." 

"  Wliat  you  call  his  folly,"  rejoined  Colin,  "is  but  a  noblo 
pride  that  makes  him  superior  to  any  of  us.  He  has  a  spirit 
that  will  not  submit  to  slavery,  and  we  have  not." 

"  That  be  truth,"  remarked  the  Krooman  ;  "  Golah  neb- 
bar  be  slave." 

Colin  was  right.  By  accepting  food  and  drink  from  his 
captors,  the  black  sheik  might  have  satisfied  the  demands  of 
mere  animal  nature,  but  only  at  the  sacrifice  of  all  that  was 
noble  in  his  nature.  His  self-respect,  along  with  the  proud, 
unyielding  spirit  by  which  everything  good  and  great  is  ac- 
complished, would  have  been  gone  from  him  foi"  ever. 

Sailor  Bill  and  his  companions,  the  boy  slaves,  had  been 
taught  from  childhood  to  yield  to  circumstances,  and  still 
retain  some  moral  feeling  ;  but  Golah  had  not. 

The  only  thing  he  could  yield  to  adverse  fate  was  his  life. 

At  this  moment  the  Krooman,  by  a  gesture,  called  their 
attention  towards  the  captive  sheik,  at  the  same  time  giving 
itterance  to  a  sharp  ejaculation. 

"  Look ! "  exclaimed  lie,  "  Golah  no  stay  longer  on  de 
Saiira.     You  him  see  soon  die  now  —  look  at  him  !  " 

At  the  same  instant  Golah  had  risen  to  his  feet,  inviting 
bis  Arab  master  to  a  conference. 

"  There  is  but  one  God,"  said  he,  "  Mahomet  is  his  proph- 
et ;  and  I  am  his  servant.  I  will  never  be  a  slave.  Give 
me  one  wife,  a  camel,  and  my  scimitar,  and  I  will  go.  I 
have  been  robbed ;  but  God  is  great,  and  it  is  his  will,  and 
my  destiny." 

Golah  had  at  lengtli  yielded,  though  not  because  tliat  he 
suffered  for  frod  and  water ;  not  that  he  feared  slavery  or 
death;  not  that  his  proud  spiiit  had  become  weak  or  given 
way ;  but  rather  that  it  had  gro\vn  stronger  under  the 
prompti'ig  cf  Revenae. 


204  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

The  Aral)  sheik  conferred  with  his  followers ;  and  thert 
arose  a  brief  controversy  among  thern. 

The  trouble  they  had  with  their  gigantic  captive,  the  diffi< 
culty  they  anticipated  m  disposing  of  him,  and  their  belief 
that  he  was  a  good  Mussulman,  were  arguments  in  favor  of 
granting  bis  request,  and  setting  him  at  liberty. 

It  was  therefore  decided  to  let  him  go  —  on  the  condition 
of  his  taking  his  departure  at  once. 

Golah  consented ;  and  they  proceeded  to  mi  tie  his  hands. 
While  this  was  being  done,  the  Krooman  ran  up  to  Coliu's 
master,  and  cautioned  him  to  protect  his  slave,  until  the  sheik 
had  departed. 

Tiiis  warning  was  unnecessary,  for  Golah  had  other  and 
more  serious  thoughts  to  engage  his  mind  than  that  of  any 
auiiiiosity  he  might  once  have  felt  against  the  young  Scotch- 
man. 

"  I  am  free,"  said  Golah,  when  his  hands  were  untied. 
"  "We  are  equals,  and  Mussulmen.  I  claim  your  hospitality. 
Give  me  some  food  and  drink." 

He  then  stepped  forward  to  the  well,  and  quenched  his 
thirst,  after  which  some  boiled  camel  meat  was  placed  before 
him. 

While  he  was  appeasing  an  appetite  that  had  been  two 
days  in  gaining  strength,  Fatima,  who  had  observed  a  strange 
expression  in  his  eyes,  appeared  to  be  in  great  consternation. 
She  had  believed  him  doomed  to  a  hfe  of  slavery,  if  not  to 
death ;  and  this  belief  had  inliuenced  her  in  her  late  ao- 
tion3. 

Gliding  up  to  the  Arab  sheik,  she  entreated  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  her  husband  ;  but  the  only  answer  she  received 
was,  that  Golah  should  liave  either  of  the  three  wives  he 
choso  to  take ;  that  he  (the  sheik)  and  his  companions  were 
men  of  honor,  who  would  not  break  the  promise  they  had 
given. 

A  goat-skin  of  water,  some  bailey  meal,  for  maJiing  sunt/- 


FATIMA'S  FATE.  205 

kk,  and  a  few  other  necessary  articles,  were  placed  on  a 
camel,  which  was  delivered  over  to  Golah. 

The  black  sheik  then  addi-essed  a  few  words  in  some 
African  language  to  his  son ;  and,  calling  Fatima  to  follow 
him,  he  started  off  across  the  desert. 


CHAPTER    LVI. 

fatima's  fate. 

A  COMPLETE  change  had  come  over  the  fortimes  of 
Fatima.  Vain,  cruel,  and  tyrannical  but  the  moment 
before,  she  was  now  humbled  to  the  dust  of  the  desert.  In 
place  of  commanding  her  fellow  wives,  she  now  approached 
them  with  entreaties,  begging  them  to  take  charge  of  her 
child,  which  she  seemed  determined  to  leave  behind  her 
Both  willingly  assented  to  her  wishes. 

Our  adventurers  were  puzzled  by  this  circumstance,  for 
there  appeared  to  be  no  reason  that  Fatima  should  leave  her 
offspring  behind  her.  Even  the  Krooman  could  not  explain 
it ;  and  as  the  shades  of  night  descended  over  the  desert, 
the  mother  separated  from  her  child,  perhaps  never  more  to 
embrace  it  in  this  world  of  wickedness  and  woe. 

About  two  hours  before  daybreak,  on  the  morning  after 
the  leparture  of  Golah,  there  was  an  alann  m  the  douar, 
which  created  amongst  the  Arabs  a  wonderful  excitement. 

The  man  who  had  been  keeping  guard  over  the  camp  was 
not  to  be  seen  ;  and  one  of  the  fleetest  camels,  as  well  as  a 
swift  desert  horse,  was  also  gone. 

The  slaves  were  instantly  mustered,  when  it  was  found 
that  31:3  of  them  was  likewise  missing.  It  was  Golah'i 
4on. 


206  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

His  absence  accounted  for  the  loss  ©f  the  camel,  and  peB 
haps  the  horse,  but  what  had  become  of  the  Arab  guard  ? 

He  certainly  would  not  have  absconded  with  the  slavey 
for  he  had  left  valuable  proi)erty  behind  him. 

There  was  no  time  for  exchanging  surmises  over  this  mys- 
tery. Pursuit  must  be  instantly  made  for  the  recovery  of 
slave,  camel,  and  horse. 

The  Arab  sheik  detailed  four  of  his  followers  to  this  duty, 
and  they  hastened  to  make  ready  for  their  departure.  They 
would  start  as  soon  as  the  light  of  day  should  enable  them 
to  see  the  course  the  missing  animals  had  taken. 

All  believed  that  the  fugitives  would  have  to  be  sought  for 
in  a  southerly  direction ;  and  therefore  the  cai'avan  would 
have  to  be  further  delayed  in  its  journey. 

"While  maldng  preparations  for  the  pursuit,  another  un- 
pleasant discovery  was  made.  Two  ship's  muskets,  that  had 
been  taken  from  Golah's  party  were  also  missing. 

They  had  been  extracted  from  a  tent  in  which  two  of  the 
Arabs  had  slept,  —  two  of  the  four  who  were  now  preparing 
to  search  for  the  missing  property. 

The  sheik  became  alarmed.  The  camp  seemed  full  of 
traitors ;  and  yet,  as  the  guns  were  the  private  property  of 
the  two  men  who  slept  in  the  tent,  they  could  not,  for  losing 
them,  reasonably  be  accused  of  anything  more  than  stupidity 

Contrary  to  the  anticipations  of  all,  the  tracks  of  the  lost 
animals  were  found  to  lead  off  in  a  north-westerly  direction ; 
and  at  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  camp  a  dark  ob- 
ject was  seen  lying  upon  the  ground.  On  examination  it 
proved  to  be  the  Arab  who  had  been  appointed  niglit-guard 
over  the  douar. 

He  was  stone  dead  ;  and  by  his  side  lay  one  of  the  miss- 
ing muskets,  with  the  stock  broken,  and  covered  with  his 
own  brains. 

The  tragedy  was  not  difficult  to  be  explained.  The  mac 
bad  seen  one  or  twc  of  the  hoppled  animals  straying  from 


FATIMA'S  FATE.  207 

the  camp.  Not  tliinkiag  that  they  were  being  led  gentJj 
away,  he  had,  without  giv'ng  any  alarm,  gone  out  to  bring 
them  back.  Gohdi's  son,  who  was  leading  them  off,  by 
keeping  concealed  behind  one  of  the  animals,  had  found  an 
opportunity  of  giving  the  guard  his  death-blow,  without  any 
noise  to  disturb  the  slumbering  denizens  of  the  donar. 

No  doubt  he  had  gone  to  rejoin  his  father,  and  the  adroit 
manner  in  which  he  had  made  his  departure,  taking  with 
him  a  musket,  a  camel,  and  a  horse,  not  only  excited  the 
wonder,  but  the  admiration  of  those  from  whom  he  had 
stolen  them. 

In  the  division  of  the  slaves,  young  Harry  Blount  and 
the  Krooman  had  become  the  property  of  the  Arab  sheik. 
The  Krooman  having  some  knowledge  of  the  Arabic  lan- 
guage, soon  established  himself  in  the  good  opinion  of  his 
new  master.  While  the  Arabs  were  discussing  the  most 
available  mode  to  obtain  revenge  for  the  murder  of  their 
companion,  as  well  as  to  regain  possession  of  the  property 
they  had  lost,  the  Krooman,  skilled  in  Golah's  character, 
volunteered  to  assist  them  by  a  little  advice. 

Pointing  to  the  south,  he  suggested  to  them  that,  by  going 
in  that  direction,  they  would  certainly  see  or  hear  some- 
thing of  Golah  and  his  son. 

The  sheik  could  the  more  readily  believe  this,  since  the 
country  of  the  black  chief  lay  to  the  southward,  and  Golah, 
on  leaving  the  douar,  had  gone  in  that  direction. 

"  But  why  did  his  dog  of  a  son  not  go  south  ?  "  inquired 
the  Arabs,  pointing  to  tlie  tracks  of  the  stolen  horse,  which 
still  appeared  to  lead  towards  the  northwest. 

"  If  you  go  north,"  replied  the  Krooman,  "  you  will  be 
Bure  to  see  Golah ;  or  if  you  stay  here,  you  will  learn  some- 
thing of  him  ?  " 

"  What !  will  he  be  in  both  directions  at  the  same  time, 
*nd  here  likewise  ?  " 

"No,  not  that;  but  he  will  follow  you.* 


208  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

The  Arabs  wore  willirg  to  believe  that  there  was  a 
chance  of  recovering  their  property  on  the  road  they  had 
been  intending  to  follow,  especially  as  the  stolen  horse  and 
camel  had  been  taken  in  that  direction. 

They  determined,  therefore,  to  continue  their  journey. 

Too  late  they  perceived  their  folly  in  treating  Gohili  as 
they  had  done.  He  was  now  beyond  their  reach,  and,  in 
all  likelihood,  had  been  rejoined  by  his  son.  He  was  an  ene- 
my against  whom  they  would  liave  to  keep  a  constant  watch ; 
and  the  thought  of  this  caused  the  old  Arab  sheik  to  swear 
by  the  Prophet's  beard  that  he  would  never  again  show 
mercy  to  a  man  whom  he  had  plundered. 

For  about  an  hour  after  resuming  their  march,  the  foot- 
prints of  the  camel  could  be  traced  in  the  direction  they 
wished  to  go ;  but  gradually  they  became  less  perceptible, 
until  at  length  they  were  lost  altogether.  A  smart  breeze 
had  been  blowing,  which  had  filled  the  tracks  with  sand, 
which  was  liglit  and  easily  disturbed. 

Trusting  to  chance,  and  still  with  some  hope  of  recover- 
ing the  stolen  property,  they  continued  on  in  the  same  di- 
rection, and,  not  long  after  losing  the  tracks,  they  found 
some  fresh  evidence  that  they  were  going  the  riglit  way. 

The  old  sheik,  who  was  riding  in  advance  of  the  others, 
on  looking  to  the  right,  perceived  an  object  on  the  sand  that 
demanded  a  closer  inspection.  He  turned  and  rode  towards 
it,  closely  followed  by  the  people  of  his  party. 

On  drawing  near  to  the  object  it  proved  to  be  the  body 
of  a  human  being,  lying  back  upwards,  and  yet  with  the  face 
turned  full  towards  the  heavens.  Tlie  features  were  at  once 
recognized  as  those  of  Fatiraa,  the  flivorite  ! 

The  head  of  the  unfortunate  woman  had  been  severed 
from  her  body,  and  then  placed  contiguous  to  it,  with  the 
face  in  an  inverted  position. 

The  ghastly  spectacle  was  instructive.  It  proved  that 
Golfth,  although  going  off  southward,  must  have  turned  back 


FURTHER  DEFECTION.  209 

again,  and  was  now  not  far  off,  hovering  about  the  track  he 
believed  his  enemies  would  be  likely  to  take.  His  son, 
moreover,  was,  in  all  likelihood,  along  with  him. 

When  departing  along  with  her  husband,  Fatima  had 
probably  anticipated  the  terrible  fate  that  awaited  her ;  and, 
for  that  reason,  had  left  her  child  in  the  care  of  the  other 
wives. 

Neither  of  these  seemed  in  the  least  surprised  on  discov- 
ering the  body.  Both  had  surmised  that  such  would  be 
Fatima's  fate ;  and  it  was  for  that  reason  they  had  so  wil- 
lingly taken  charge  of  her  child. 

The  caravan  made  a  short  halt,  which  was  taken  advan* 
tage  of  by  the  two  women  to  cover  the  body  with  sand. 

The  journey  was  then  resumed. 


CHAPTER    LVII. 

FURTHER   DEFECTION. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  that  Golah's  brother-in-law, 
who  had  formerly  been  a  freeman,  was  now  a  slave, 
he  seemed  well  satisfied  with  the  change  in  his  circum- 
Btances. 

He  made  himself  very  useful  to  his  new  masters  in  look- 
ing after  the  camel,  and  doing  all  the  other  necessary  work 
which  his  knowledge  of  Saiiran  life  enabled  him  effectually 
to  execute. 

When  the  Arab  caravan  came  to  a  halt  on  the  evening 
of  his  first  day's  journey  along  with  it,  he  assisted  in  un- 
loading the  camels,  putting  the  hopples  on  them,  pitching 
the  tents,  and  doing  anything  else  which  was  required  to  he 
done. 

IT 


210  THE  BOY  SLAVi:S. 

While  tLe  other  slaves  were  eating  the  small  portion  oi 
food  allowed  them,  one  of  the  camels  formerly  belonging  to 
Golah  —  a  young  and  fleet  raaherry  that  had  been  ridden  by 
Fatima,  strayed  a  short  distance  from  the  douar.  Seeing  it 
the  black  sheik's  brother-in-law,  who  had  been  making  him 
self  so  useful,  ran  after  the  animal  as  if  to  fetch  it  back.  He 
was  seen  passing  beyond  the  camel,  as  though  he  intended 
turning  it  toward  the  camp ;  but  in  another  instant  it  was 
discovered  that  he  had  no  such  design.  The  youth  was 
seen  to  spring  to  the  back  of  the  maherry,  lay  hold  of  its 
hump,  and  ride  rapidly  away.  Accustomed  to  hearing  the 
Bound  of  his  voice,  the  faithful  and  intelligent  animal  obeyed 
his  words  of  command.  Its  neck  was  suddenly  craned  out 
towards  the  north ;  and  its  feet  were  flung  forward  in  long 
strides  that  bore  its  rider  rapidly  away  from  the  rest.  The 
incident  caused  a  tremendous  commotion  in  the  caravan.  It 
was  so  wholly  unexpected,  that  none  of  the  Arabs  were  pre- 
pared to  intercept  the  fugitive.  The  guard  for  the  night 
had  not  been  appointed.  They  were  all  seated  on  the 
ground,  engaged  in  devouring  their  evening  repast,  and  be- 
fore a  musket  could  be  discharged  at  the  runaway,  he  had 
got  so  far  into  the  glimmering  twilight  that  the  only  effect  of 
two  or  three  shots  fired  after  him  was  to  quicken  the  pace  of 
the  maherry  on  which  he  was  fleeing. 

Two  fleet  horses  were  instantly  saddled  and  mounted,  one 
by  the  owner  of  the  camel  that  had  been  stolen,  and  the 
other  by  the  owner  of  the  slave  who  had  stolen  it. 

Each,  arming  himself  with  musket  and  scimitar,  felt  sure 
of  recapturing  the  runaway.  Their  only  doubt  arose  from 
the  knowledge  of  the  swiftness  of  the  maherry,  and  that  its 
rider  was  favored  by  the  approaching  darkness. 

The  whole  encampment  was  by  this  time  under  arms 
and  after  the  departure  of  the  pursuers,  the  sheik  gathered 
all    the   slaves    togetlier,  and   swore  by  the   beard  of  the 
Piophet  that  they  should  all  be  killed,  and  that  he  would 


FURTHER   DEFECTION.  211 

Aet  the  example  by  killing  the  two  belonging  to  liimsel^ 
whicli  were  Hany  Blount  and  the  Kiooman.  Several  of 
his  followers  liroceeded  to  relieve  their  excitement  by  each 
beating  the  slave  or  slaves  that  were  his  own  property,  and 
amongst  these  irate  slave-owners  was  the  master  of  Sailor 
Bill.  The  old  man-o-war's-man  was  cudgelled  till  his  objec- 
tions to  involuntary  servitude  were  loudly  expressed,  and  in 
the  strongest  terras  that  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish  could  fur- 
nish for  the  purpose. 

"When  the  rage  of  the  old  gheik  had  to  some  extent  sub- 
sided, he  procured  a  leathern  thong,  and  declared  that  his 
two  slaves  should  be  fast  bound,  and  never  released  as  long 
as  they  remained  in  his  possession. 

"  Talk  to  him,"  exclaimed  Hai-ry  to  the  Krooman  ;  "  tell 
him,  in  his  own  language,  that  God  is  great,  and  that  he  is 
a  fool !  We  don't  wish  to  escape,  —  certainly  not  at  pres- 
ent." 

Thus  counselled,  the  Krooman  explained  to  the  sheik  that 
the  white  slaves,  as  well  as  himself,  who  had  sailed  in  Eng- 
lish sliips,  had  no  intention  of  running  away,  but  wished  to 
be  taken  north,  where  they  might  be  ransomed ;  and  that 
they  were  not  such  fools  as  to  part  from  him  in  a  place  where 
they  would  certainly  starve.  The  Krooman  also  informed 
the  sheik  that  they  were  all  very  glad  at  being  taken  out  of 
the  hands  of  Golah,  who  would  have  carried  them  to  Tim- 
buctoo,  whence  they  never  could  have  returned,  but  must 
have  ended  their  days  in  slavery. 

"While  the  Krooman  was  talking  to  the  sheik,  several  of 
the  others  came  up  and  listened.  The  black  further  in- 
formed them  that  the  white  slaves  had  friends  living  in  Aga- 
deer  and  Swearah  (Santa  Cruz  and  Mogador),  —  friends 
who  would  pay  a  large  price  to  ransom  them.  "Why,  then, 
should  they  try  to  escape  while  journeying  towards  the  place 
where  those  friends  were  living  ? 

The  Krooman  went  on  to  say  that  the  yc»ung  man  who 


212  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

had  just  made  off  was  Golah's  brother-in-law ;  that,  unlika 
themsehes,  in  going  north  he  would  not  be  seeking  freedom 
but  perpetual  slavery,  and  for  that  reason  he  had  gone  tr 
rejoin  Golah  and  his  son. 

This  explanation  seemed  eo  reasonable  to  the  Arabs,  that 
their  fears  for  the  safety  of  their  slaves  soon  subsided,  and 
the  latter  were  permitted  to  repose  in  peace. 

As  a  i:)recautionary  measure,  however,  two  men  were  kept 
moving  in  a  circle  around  the  douar  throughout  the  whole 
of  the  night ;  but  no  disturbance  arose,  and  morning  returned 
without  bringing  back  the  two  men  who  had  gone  in  pursuit 
of  the  cunning  runaway. 

The  distance  to  the  next  watering-place  was  too  great  to 
admit  of  any  delay  being  made ;  and  the  journey  was  re- 
sumed, in  the  hope  that  the  two  missing  men  would  be  met 
on  the  way. 

This  hope  was  realized. 

All  along  the  route  the  old  sheik,  who  rode  in  advance, 
kept  scanning  the  horizon,  not  only  ahead,  but  to  the  right 
and  left  of  their  course.  About  ten  miles  from  their  night's 
halting-place  he  was  seen  to  swerve  suddenly  from  his 
course,  and  advance  towards  something  that  had  attracted 
his  attention.  His  followers  hastened  after  him,  —  all  ex- 
cept the  two  women  and  their  children,  who  hngered  a  long 
way  behind. 

Lying  on  the  ground,  their  bodies  contiguous  to  each 
other,  were  the  two  Arabs  who  had  gone  in  pursuit  of  the 
Tunaway. 

They  were  both  dead. 

One  of  them  had  been  shot  with  a  musket  ball  that  had 
penetrated  his  skull,  entering  directly  between  his  teriples. 
The  other  had  been  cut  down  with  a  scimitar,  his  body  be» 
bg  almost  severed  in  twain. 

The  youth  who  had  fled  the  night  before,  had  evidently 
come  up  with  Golah  and  his  son ;  and  the  two  men  wbf 


FURTHER  DEFECTION.  213 

had  pursued  him  bad  lost  their  lives,  their  animals,  mus- 
kets, and  scimitars. 

Golali  now  had  two  accomplices,  and  the  three  were  well 
moLintfd  and  well  armed. 

The  anger  of  tlic  Aji'abs  was  frightful  to  behold.  They 
turned  tovvards  the  two  women  whom  they  knew  to  be  Go- 
lah's  wives.  The  latter  had  thrown  themselves  on  their 
knees  and  were  screaming  and  supplicating  for  mercy. 

Some  of  the  Arabs  would  have  killed  them  on  the  instant ; 
but  were  prevented  by  the  old  sheik,  who,  although  himself 
wild  with  rage,  had  still  sufficient  reason  left  to  tell  him  that 
tl)«  unfortunate  women  were  not  answerable  for  the  acts  of 
their  husband.  Our  adventurers  found  reason  to  regret  the 
misfortune  that  had  befallen  their  new  masters ;  for  they 
could  not  but  regard  with  alarm  the  returning  power  of  Go- 
lah. 

"  "We  shall  fall  into  his  hands  again,"  exclaimed  Terence. 
''  lie  will  kill  all  these  Arabs  one  after  another,  and  obtain 
all  be  has  lost,  ourselves  included.  We  shall  yet  be  driven 
to  Tirabuctoo." 

"  Th^n  we  should  deserve  it,"  cried  Hfirry,  "  for  it  will 
partly  ba  our  own  fault,  if  ever  we  fall  into  Golah's  power 
again." 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Bill,  "  Golah  is  a  wondersome 
man,  and  as  got  somethin'  more  nor  human  natur'  to  'elp  'im, 
I  think  jvs  'ow  if  we  should  see  'im  'alf  a  mile  off,  signalizin' 
for  us  V)  follow  'im,  we  should  'ave  to  go.  I  've  tried  my 
hand  at  disobeyin'  his  orders,  ar  d  don't  do  it  again,  —  net  if 
I  knows  it." 

The  expressions  of  anger  hitherto  portrayed  on  the  coun- 
tenances of  the  Arabs,  had  given  place  to  those  of  anxiety. 
They  knew  that  an  enemy  was  hovering  around  them,  —  an 
enemy  whom  they  had  wronged,  —  whose  power  they  had 
undei-valued,  and  whom  they  had  foolishly  restored  to  lib- 
erty. 


214  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

The  bodies  of  their  companions  were  hastily  inteiTed  lu 
the  sand,  and  their  journey  nortliward  was  once  more  re* 
limed. 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 

A   CALL   FOR   TWO    MORE. 

THE  sufferings  of  the  slaves  for  water  and  food  again 
commenced,  while  the  pace  at  which  they  were  com- 
pelled to  travel,  to  keep  up  with  the  camels,  soon  exhausted 
the  little  strength  they  had  acquired  from  the  rest  by  the 
well. 

During  the  long  afternoon  following  the  burial  of  the  two 
Arabs,  each  of  the  boy  slaves  at  different  times  declared  his 
utter  inability  to  proceed  any  farther. 

They  were  mistaken  ;  and  had  yet  to  learn  something  of 
the  power  which  love  of  life  exerts  over  the  body. 

They  knew  that  to  linger  bir-hind  would  be  death.  They 
did  not  desire  to  die,  and  therefore  struggled  on. 

Like  men  upon  a  treadmill,  they  were  compelled  to  keep 
on  moving,  although  neither  able  nor  willing. 

The  hour  of  sunset  found  them  wading  through  sand  that 
had  lately  been  stirred  by  a  storm.  It  was  nearly  as  light 
and  loose  as  snow ;  and  the  toil  of  moving  through  it  Avas 
so  wearisome,  that  the  mounted  Arabs,  having  some  pity  on 
those  who  had  walked,  halted  eaily  for  the  night.  Two 
men  were  appointed  to  guard  the  camp  in  the  fame  manner 
as  upon  the  night  before ;  and  with  the  feelings  of  hunger 
and  thirst  partly  appeased,  weary  with  the  toils  of  day,  our 
adventurers  were  soon  in  a  sound  slumber.  Around  them, 
and  half-buriod  in  the  soft  sard,  lay  stretched  the  othei  den 
izens  of  the  douar,  all  slumberini:  likewise. 


A  CALL  FOR   TWO  MORE.  215 

Then  rest  remained  undisturbed  until  that  darkest  hout 
of  the  night,  just  before  the  dawning  of  day.  They  were 
then  startled  from  sleep  by  the  report  of  a  musket,  —  a  re- 
port that  was  immediately  followed  by  another  in  the  op- 
posite direction.    The  donar  was  instantly  in  wild  confusion. 

The  Arabs  seized  their  weapons,  and  rushed  forth  from 
among  the  tents. 

One  of  the  party  that  ran  in  the  direction  in  which  the 
first  shot  was  heard,  seeing  a  man  coming  towards  them,  in 
the  excitement  of  the  moment  fired  his  musket,  and  shot 
the  individual  who  Avas  advancing,  who  proved  to  be  cue  of 
those  entrusted  with  the  guard  of  the  camp. 

No  enemies  could  be  discovered.  They  had  fled,  leaving 
the  two  camp-guards  in  the  agonies  of  <leath. 

Some  of  the  Arabs  would  have  rushed  wildly  hither  and 
thither,  in  search  of  the  unseen  foe,  but  were  prevented  by 
the  sheik,  who,  fearing  that  all  would  be  lost,  should  the 
douar  be  deserted  by  the  armed  men,  shouted  the  signal  for 
all  his  followers  to  gather  around  him. 

The  two  wounded  men  were  brought  into  a  tent,  where, 
in  a  few  minutes,  one  of  them  —  the  man  who  had  been  shot 
by  one  of  his  companions  —  breathed  his  last.  He  had  also 
received  a  wound  from  the  first  shot  that  had  been  heard, 
his  right  arm  having  been  shattered  by  a  musket-ball. 

The  spine  of  the  other  guard  had  been  broken  by  a  bullet, 
so  that  recovery  was  clearly  impossible. 

He  had  evidently  heard  the  first  shot  fired  at  his  compan- 
ion from  the  opposite  side  of  the  camp :  and  was  turning  his 
back  upon  the  foe  that  had  attacked  himself. 

The  light  of  day  soon  slione  upon  the  scene,  and  they  were 
able  to  perceive  how  their  enemies  had  approached  so  near 
*J)e  camp  without  being  observed. 

About  a  hundred  paces  from  where  tne  guards  had  been 
staiiding  at  the  time  tlie  first  two  shots  were  fired,  was  a 
furrow  or  ravine  running  through  the  soft  sand. 


216  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

This  ravine  branched  into  two  lesser  ones,  including 
within  their  angle  the  Arab  camp,  as  also  the  sentinels  sta- 
tioned to  guard  it. 

Up  the  branches  the  midnight  murderers  had  silently 
(Ft  jlen,  each  taking  a  side ;  and  in  this  way  had  got  within 
easy  distance  of  the  ursuspecting  sentries. 

In  the  bottom  of  one  of  the  furrows,  where  the  sand  waa 
more  firmly  compacted,  was  found  the  impression  of  human 
footsteps. 

The  tracks  had  been  made  by  some  person  hurriedly  leav- 
ing the  spot. 

"  Dis  be  de  track  ob  Golah,"  said  the  Krooman  to  Harry, 
after  he  had  examined  it.  "  He  made  um  when  runnin'  'way 
after  he  fire  da  musket." 

"  Very  likely,"  said  Harry ;  "  but  how  do  you  know  it  ia 
Golali's  track  ?  " 

"  'Cause  G(jlah  hab  largess  feet  in  all  de  world,  and  no 
feet  but  his  make  dat  mark." 

"  I  tell  you  again,"  said  Terence,  who  overheard  the  Kroo- 
man's  remark,  "  we  shall  have  to  go  with  Golah  to  Timbuc- 
too.  We  belong  to  him.  These  Arabs  are  only  keeping  us 
for  a  few  days,  but  they  will  all  be  killed  yet,  and  we  shall 
have  to  follow  the  black  sheik  in  the  opposite  direction." 

Harry  made  no  reply  to  this  prophetic  speech.  Certain- 
ly, there  was  a  prospect  of  its  proving  true. 

Four  Arabs  out  of  tiie  eleven  of  which  their  party  was 
originally  composed,  were  already  dead,  while  still  another 
was  dying ! 

Sailor  Bill  pronounced  Golah,  witli  his  son  and  brothor- 
iti-law,  quite  a  match  for  the  six  who  were  left.  The  black 
slieik,  lie  tliought,  was  equal  to  any  four  of  their  present 
masters  in  strength,  cunning,  and  determination. 

"  But  the  Arabs  have  us  to  help  them,"  remarked  Colin. 
"  We  should  count  for  something." 

"  So  we  do,  —  as  merchandise,"  replied  Harry ;  "  we  have 


A  CALL  FOR  TWO  MORE.  217 

hitherto  been  helpless  as  children  in  protecting  ourselves. 
What  can  we  do  ?  The  boasted  superiority  of  our  race  or 
country  cannot  be  true  here  in  the  desert.  We  are  out  of 
our  element." 

*'  Yes,  that 's  sartain  !  "  exclaimed  Bill ;  "  but  we  're  not 
far  from  it.  Shiver  my  timbers  if  I  don  't  smell  salt  water 
Be  Jabers !  if  we  go  on  towards  the  west  we  shall  see  th« 
say  afore  night." 

During  this  dialogue  the  Arabs  were  holding  a  consulta- 
tion as  to  what  they  should  do. 

To  divide  the  camp,  and  send  some  after  their  enemies, 
was  pronounced  impolitic :  the  party  sent  in  pursuit,  and 
that  left  to  guard  the  caravan,  —  either  would  be  too  weak 
if  attacked  by  their  truculent  enemy. 

In  union  alone  was  strength,  and  they  resolved  to  remain 
together,  believing  that  they  should  have  a  visit  from  Golah 
again,  while  better  prepared  to  receive  him. 

The  footprints  leading  out  from  the  two  ravines  were 
traced  for  about  a  mile  in  the  direction  they  wished  to 
follow. 

The  tracks  of  camels  and  horses  were  there  found ;  and 
they  could  tell  by  the  signs  that  their  enemies  had  mounted 
and  ridden  off  towards  the  west. 

They  possibly  might  have  avoided  meeting  Golah  again 
by  going  eastward  ;  but,  from  their  knowledge  of  the  desert, 
no  water  was  to  be  found  in  that  direction  in  less  than  five 
days'  journey. 

Moreover,  they  did  not  yet  wish  to  avoid  him.  They 
thirsted  for  revenge,  and  were  impatient  to  move  on  ;  for  a 
journey  of  two  days  was  still  before  them  before  they  coiUd 
hope  to  arrive  at  tlie  nearest  water. 

When  every  preparation  had  been  made  to  resume  their 
route,  there  was  one  obstacle  in  the  way  of  their  taking  an 
immediate  departure. 

Their  wounded  companion  was  not  yet  defunct.  They 
10 


218  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Baw  it  would  bo  impossible  foi-  him  to  live  much  longer  ;  fol 
the  lower  part  of  his  body,  —  all  below  the  shattered  portion 
of  the  spine,  —  appeared  already  without  life.  A  few  hours 
at  most  would  terminate  his  sufferings  ;  but  for  the  expira- 
tion of  those  few  hours,  —  or  minutes,  as  fate  should  decide, 
—  his  companions  seemed  unwilling  to  wait! 

They  dug  a  hole  in  the  sand  near  where  the  wounded 
man  was  lying.  This  was  but  the  work  of  a  {"ew  minutes. 
As  soon  as  the  grave  was  completed,  the  eyes  of  all  were 
once  more  turned  upon  the  wretched  sufferer. 

He  was  still  alive,  and  by  piteous  moans  expressing  the 
agony  he  was  enduring. 

"  BismUlah  ! "  exclaimed  the  old  sheik,  "  why  do  you  not 
die,  my  friend  ?  We  are  waiting  for  the  fulfilment  of  your 
destiuy." 

"  I  am  dead,"  ejaculated  the  sufferer,  speaking  in  a  faint 
voice,  and  apparently  with  great  difficulty. 

Having  said  this,  he  relapsed  into  silence,  and  remained 
motionless  as  a  corpse. 

The  sheik  then  placed  one  hand  upon  his  temples.  "  Yes !" 
he  exclaimed,  "  the  words  of  our  friend  are  those  of  truth  and 
wisdom.     He  is  dead." 

The  wounded  man  was  then  rolled  into  the  cavity  which 
had  been  scooped  out,  and  they  hastily  proceeded  to  cover 
him  with  sand. 

As  they  did  so,  his  hands  were  repeatedly  uphfted,  while 
a  low  moaning  came  from  his  lips ;  but  his  movements  were 
apparently  unseen,  and  his  cries  of  agony  unnoticed ! 

His  companions  remained  both  deaf  and  blind  to  any 
evidence  that  might  refute  his  own  assertion  that  he  was 
dead. 

The  sand  was  at  length  heaped  up,  so  as  completely  to 
cover  hid  body,  when^  by.an  order  from  the  old  sluik,  his 
followers  turned  away  from  the  spot  and  the  Kalila  moved 
on  i 


ONCE  MOEE  BY   THE  SEA.  219 

CHAPTER    LIX. 

ONCE   MORE    BY    THE    SEA. 

SAILOR  BILL'S  conjecture  that  they  were  net  far  from 
the  sea  proved  correct. 

On  the  evening  of  that  same  day  they  saw  the  sun  sink 
down  into  a  shining  horizon,  which  they  knew  was  not  that 
of  the  burning  sand-plain  over  which  they  had  been  so  long 
moving. 

That  faint  and  distant  xiew  of  his  favorite  element  was  a 
joyful  moment  for  the  old  sailor. 

"  "We  are  in  sight  of  home  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Shiver  mj 
timbers  if  I  ever  lose  sight  of  it  again  !  I  shan't  be  buried  in 
the  sand.  If  I  must  go  under  alive,  it  shall  be  under  water, 
like  a  Christyun.  If  I  could  swim,  I  'd  start  right  off  for 
Hold  Hingland  as  soon  as  Ave  get  to  yonder  shore." 

The  boy  slaves  were  alike  inspired  with  hope  and  joy  at 
the  f?istant  view. 

The  sea  was  still  too  far  off  to  be  reached  tliat  night,  and 
the  iouar  was  pitched  about  live  miles  from  the  shore. 

During  this  night,  three  of  the  Arabs  were  kept  con- 
stantly on  guard ;  but  the  camp  was  not  disturbed,  and  next 
morning  they  resumed  their  journey,  some  with  the  hope,  and 
others  with  the  fear,  that  Golah  would  trouble  them  no  more. 

The  Arabs  wished  to  meet  him  during  the  hours  of  day- 
light, and  secure  the  property  they  had  lost ;  and  from  their 
knowledge  of  the  part  of  the  desert  they  were  now  travers- 
ing, thoy  were  in  hopes  of  doing  this.  They  knew  there 
was  bv't  one  place  within  two  days'  journey  where  fresh 
water  could  be  obtained  ;  and  should  they  succeed  in  reach- 
ing this  place  before  Golah,  they  could  lie  in  wait  for  hia 
arrival.  They  were  certain  he  must  visit  this  watering- 
place  to  save  hii  animals  from  perishing  -with  thirst. 


220  TEE  BOY  SLAVES. 

At  noonday  a  halt  was  made  not  far  from  the  beaca. 
It  was  only  foi*  a  short  while  ;  for  they  were  anxious  t« 
reach  the  well  as  soon  as  possible.  The  few  minutes  spent 
at  the  halting-place  were  well  employed  by  the  bey  slaves 
in  gathering  shell-Ash  and  bathing  their  bodies  in  the  surf. 

Refreshed  by  this  luxurious  food,  as  well  as  ly  the  wash- 
ing, of  which  tliey  were  greatly  in  need,  they  were  able  tr 
proceed  at  a  better  pace  ;  so  tliat  about  an  hour  before  sun 
set  the  caravan  arrived  at  the  well. 

Just  before  reaching  it,  the  old  sheik  and  one  of  his  com 
panions  had  dismounted  and  walked  forward  to  examine 
such  tracks  as  might  be  found  about  the  place.  They  were 
chagrined  to  find  that  Golah  had  been  before.  He  had  been 
to  the  well,  and  obtained  a  supply  of  water.  His  footmarks 
were  easily  identified.  They  were  fresh,  having  been  made 
but  an  hour  or  two  before  the  arrival  of  the  caravan  ;  and 
in  i^lace  of  their  having  to  wait  for  Golah,  he  was  undoubt- 
edly waiting  for  them.  They  felt  sure  that  the  black  sheik 
was  not  far  oiF,  watching  for  a  favorable  opportunity  of  again 
paying  them  a  nocturnal  visit.  They  could  now  understand 
why  he  had  not  attempted  to  molest  them  on  the  preceding 
night.  He  had  been  hastening  forward,  in  order  to  reach 
the  well  in  advance  of  them. 

The  apprehensions  of  the  Ai'abs  became  keener  and 
Keener  alter  tliis  discovery.  Tliey  were  also  much  puzzled 
as  to  what  they  should  do ;  and  a  diversity  of  ^oinion  arose 
as  to  the  best  plan  for  guarding  the  camp  against  their  im- 
placable foe.  Some  were  in  favor  of  staying  by  the  well 
for  several  days,  until  the  supply  of  water  which  their  ene- 
my had  taken  with  him  should  be  exhausted.  Golah  would 
then  have  to  revisit  the  well,  or  perish  of  thirst  upon  the 
desert.  The  idea  was  an  ingenious  one,  but  unfortunately 
theii'  stock  of  provisions  would  not  admit  of  any  delay,  and 
it  was  resohed  that  the  journey  should  bo  resumed  af 
once. 


ONCE  MORE  BY  THE  SEA.  221 

Just  at}  they  were  preparing  to  move  away  from  the  well, 
a  caravan  of  traders  arrived  from  the  south,  and  the  old 
sheik  made  anxious  inquiries  as  to  whether  the  new-comers 
had  seen  any  one  on  their  route.  The  traders,  to  whom 
the  caravan  belonged,  had  that  morning  met  three  men  who 
answered  to  the  description  of  Golah  and  his  companions. 
They  were  journeying  south,  and  had  purchased  a  small 
supply  of  food  from  the  caravan. 

Could  it  be  that  Golah  liad  given  up  the  hope  of  recover 
ing  his  lost  property  ?  relinquished  his  deadly  purpose  of 
revenge  ?  The  Arabs  professed  much  unwillingness  to  be- 
lieve it.  Some  of  them  loudly  proposed  starting  southward 
in  pursuit.  But  this  proposition  was  overruled,  and  it  was 
evident  that  the  old  sheik,  as  well  as  most  of  his  followers, 
were  in  reality  pleased  to  tliink  tliat  Golah  would  trouble 
them  no  more. 

The  sheik  decreed  that  the  property  of  those  who  had 
perished  should  be  divided  amongst  those  who  survived. 
This  giving  universal  satisfaction,  the  Arab  Kafila  took  its 
departure,  leaving  the  caravan  of  the  traders  by  the  well, 
where  they  were  intending  to  remain  for  some  time  longer. 

Shortly  after  leaving  the  well,  the  old  sheik  ordered  a 
halt  by  the  seashore,  where  he  stopped  long  enough  for  his 
slaves  to  gather  some  shell-fish,  enough  to  satisfy  the  hun- 
ger of  all  his  followers. 

A  majority  of  the  Arabs  were  under  the  belief  that  the 
black  sheik  had  started  at  last  for  his  own  country  —  satis- 
fied with  the  revenge  he  had  already  taken.  They  seemed 
to  think  that  keeping  watch  over  the  camp  would  no  longer 
be  necessary. 

With  this  opinion  their  Krooman  captive  did  not  agree ; 
and,  fearing  to  fall  again  into  the  possession  of  Golah,  he 
labored  to  convince  his  new  master  that  they  were  as  likely 
that  night  to  receive  a  visit  fiom  t'ae  black  sheik  as  they 
bad  ever  l)een  before. 


222  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

He  argued  that,  if  Golah  had  entertained  a  hope  of  de» 
feating  his  foes  —  eleven  in  number  —  when  aloes,  and 
armed  only  with  a  scimitar,  he  certainly  would  not  be  likely 
to  relinquish  that  hope  after  having  succeeded  in  killing 
nearly  half  of  them,  and  being  strengthened  by  a  couple  of 
able  assistants. 

The  Krooman  believed  that  Golah's  going  south,  —  as 
reported  by  the  party  met  at  the  well,  —  was  proof  that 
he  really  intended  proceeding  north ;  and  he  urged  the 
Arab  s^eik  to  set  a  good  guard  over  the  douar  through  the 
eight. 

"  Tell  him,"  said  Harry,  "  if  they  are  not  inclined  to  keep 
guard  for  themselves,  that  we  will  stand  it,  if  they  will  only 
allow  us  to  have  weapons  of  some  kind  or  othei*." 

The  Krooman  made  this  communication  to  tlie  Arab  sheik, 
who  smiled  only  in  reply. 

The  idea  of  allowing  slaves  to  guard  an  Arab  douar,  espe- 
cially to  furnish  them  with  fire-arms,  was  Very  amusing  to 
the  old  chieftain  of  the  Saiira. 

Harry  understood  the  meaning  of  his  smile.  It  meant 
refusal ;  but  the  young  Englishman  had  also  become  im- 
pressed with  the  danger  suggested  by  Terence,  that  Golah 
would  yet  kiU  the  Arabs,  and  take  the  boy  slaves  back  to 
Timbuctoo. 

"  Tell  the  sheik  that  he  is  an  old  fool,"  said  he  to  the  in- 
terpreter ;  "  tell  him  that  we  have  a  greater  objection  to  fall- 
ing into  the  hands  of  Golah  than  he  has  of  losing  either  us 
or  his  own  life.  Tell  him  that  we  wish  to  go  north,  whei-e 
we  can  be  redeeme  1 ;  and  that  for  this  reason  alone  we 
should  be  far  more  careful  than  any  of  his  own  people  in 
gl  arding  the  camp  against  surprise." 

When  this  communication  was  made  to  the  old  sheik  it 
seemed  to  strike  him  as  having  some  reason  in  it ;  and,  con- 
vinced by  the  Krooman's  arguments  that  there  was  still  dan- 
ger to  be  apprehended  from  Golah's  vengeance,  he  directed 


ONCE  MORE  BY  THE  SEA.  223 

that  Iho  douar  should  be  strictly  guarded,  and  that  the  wLita 
slaves  might  take  part  iu  the  duty. 

"  You  shall  be  takeu  north,  and  sold  to  your  countrymen,'* 
promised  he,  "  if  you  give  us  no  trouble  in  the  transit.  There 
are  but  few  of  my  people  left  now,  and  it  is  hard  for  us  to 
travel  all  day  and  keep  watch  all  night.  If  you  are  really 
afraid  of  fiilling  into  the  hands  of  this  Prophet-accursed 
negro,  and  will  help  us  in  guarding  against  his  murderous 
attacks,  you  are  welcome  to  do  so ;  but  if  any  one  of  you 
attempt  to  play  traitor,  the  whole  four  of  you  shall  lose  your 
heads.     I  swear  it  by  the  beard  of  the  Prophet !  " 

The  Krooman  assured  him  that  none  of  the  white  slaves 
had  any  desire  to  deceive  him,  adding  that  self-interest,  if 
nothing  else,  would  cause  them  to  be  true  to  those  whc 
would  take  them  to  a  place  where  they  would  have  a  chance 
of  being  ransomed  out  of  slavery. 

Darkness  having  by  this  time  descended  over  the  desert, 
the  sheik  set  about  appointing  the  guard  for  the  night.  He 
was  too  suspicious  of  his  wliite  slaves  to  allow  all  the  four 
of  them  to  act  as  guards  at  the  same  time,  while  he  and  his 
companions  were  asleep.  He  was  willing,  however,  that 
one  of  them  should  be  allowed  to  keep  watch  in  company 
with  one  of  his  own  followers. 

In  choosing  the  individual  for  this  duty,  he  inquired  from 
the  Krooman  which  of  the  four  had  been  most  ill-used  by 
the  black  shiek.  Sailor  Bill  was  pointed  out  as  the  man, 
and  the  interpreter  gave  some  details  of  the  cruel  treatment 
to  which  the  old  man-o'-war's-man  had  been  subjected  at  the 
hjinds  of  Golah. 

"  Bismillah !  that  is  well,"  said  the  sheik.  "  Let  him 
keep  the  waich.  After  what  you  say,  revenge  should  hin- 
der him  from  closing  his  eyes  in  sleep  for  a  whole  naooa 
There  's  no  fear  that  he  will  betray  us." 


224  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER    LX. 

QOLAH    CALLS    AGAIN. 

IN  setting  the  watch  for  the  night  one  of  the  sentinels  was 
stationed  on  the  shore  about  a  hundred  yards  north  of 
the  douar.  His  instructions  were  to  walk  a  round  of  about 
two  hundred  paces,  extending  inward  from,  the  beach. 

Another  was  placed  about  the  same  distance  south  of  the 
canap,  and  was  to  pace  backwards  and  forwards  after  a  simi- 
lar fashion. 

Sailor  Bill  was  stationed  on  the  land  side  of  the  camp, 
where  he  was  to  move  to  and  fro  between  the  beats  of 
the  two  Arab  guards,  each  of  whom,  on  discovering  him  at 
the  termination  of  his  round,  was  to  utter  the  word  "  Akka" 
so  that  the  sailor  should  distinguish  them  from  an  enemy. 

The  Arabs  themselves  were  supposed  to  be  sufficiently 
intelligent  to  tell  a  friend  from  a  foe  without  requiring  any 
countersign. 

Before  Bill  was  sent  upon  his  beat,  the  old  sheik  went 
into  a  tent,  and  soon  after  reappeared  with  a  large  pistol, 
bearing  a  strong  likeness  to  a  blunderbuss.  This  weapon 
he  placed  in  the  sailor's  hand,  with  the  injunction  —  trans- 
lated to  him  by  the  interpreter  —  not  to  discharge  it  until 
he  should  be  certain  of  killing  either  Golah  or  one  of  his 
companions. 

The  old  sailor,  although  sorely  fatigued  with  the  toil  of 
the  day's  journey,  had  so  great  a  horror  of  again  becoming 
the  property  of  the  black  sheik,  that  he  cheerfully  promised 
to  "  walk  the  deck  all  night,  and  keep  a  good  lookout  ibr 
breakers,"  and  his  young  companions  sought  repose  in  full 
confidence  that  the  promise  would  be  faithfully  kept. 

Any  one  of  the  boy  slaves  would  willingly  have  taken 
his  place,  and  allowed  their  old  comrade  to  rest  for  the 


GOLAH  CALLS  AGAIN.  225 

nighl ;  but  Bill  had  been  selected  by  the  old  sheik,  and  from 
his  decree  there  was  no  appeal. 

Tlie  two  Arabs  doing  duty  as  sentinels  knew,  from  past 
experience,  that  if  the  Kafila  was  still  followed  by  Golah, 
they  would  be  the  individuals  most  exposed  to  danger ;  and 
this  knowledge  was  sufficient  to  stimulate  them  to  the  most 
faithful  discharge  of  their  trust. 

Neither  of  them  wished  to  become  victims  to  the  fate 
which  had  befallen  their  predecessors  in  office. 

For  two  or  three  hours  both  paced  slowly  to  and  fro ;  and 
Bill,  each  time  he  approached  the  end  of  his  beat,  could 
hear  distinctly  pronounced  the  word  '•'•Alcha"  which  proved 
that  his  co-sentinels  were  fully  on  the  alert. 

It  so  chanced  that  one  of  them  had  no  faith  in  the  general 
belief  that  the  enemy  had  relinquished  his  purposes  san- 
guinary of  vengeance. 

He  drew  his  deductions  from  Golah's  conduct  in  the  past, 
and  during  the  long  silent  hours  of  the  night  his  fancy  was 
constantly  dwelling  on  the  manner  in  which  the  dreaded 
enemy  had  approached  the  douar  on  former  occasions. 

Tliis  sentry  was  the  one  stationed  to  the  south  of  the 
douar ;  and  with  eyes  constantly  striving  to  pierce  the  dark- 
ness that  shrouded  the  sand  plain,  the  water,  on  which  a 
better  light  was  reflected,  received  no  attention  from  him. 
He  believed  the  douar  well  protected  on  the  side  of  the  sea, 
for  he  had  no  idea  that  danger  could  come  from  that  direc- 
tion. 

He  was  mistaken. 

Had  their  enemies  been,  like  himself  and  his  compan- 
ions, true  children  of  the  Saiira,  his  plan  of  watching  for 
their  approach  might  have  answered  well  enough  ;  but  the 
latter  chanced  to  be  the  offspring  of  a  different  country  and 
race. 

About  three  hours  after  the  watch  had  been  established, 
the  sentinel  placed  on  the  southern  a'de  of  the  douar 
10*  o 


226  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

was  being  closely  observed  by  the  black  sheik,  yet  knew  U 
not. 

Golah  had  chosen  a  singular  plan  to  secure  himself 
against  being  observed,  similar  to  that  selected  by  the  three 
mids  for  the  like  purpose  soon  after  their  beuig  cast  awaj 
upon  the  coast. 

He  had  stolen  into  the  water,  and  with  only  his  woolly 
occiput  above  the  surface,  had  approached  within  a  few  yards 
of  the  spot  where  the  Arab  sentry  turned  upon  his  round. 

In  the  darkness  of  the  night,  at  the  distance  of  twelve  or 
fifteen  paces,  he  might  have  been  discovered,  had  a  close 
survey  been  made  of  the  shining  surface.  But  there  was 
no  such  survey,  and  Golah  watched  the  sentinel,  himself 
unseen. 

The  attention  of  the  Arab  was  wholly  occupied  in  looking 
for  the  approach  of  a  foe  from  the  land  side ;  and  while  he 
was  in  continual  fear  of  hearing  the  report  of  a  musket,  or 
feeling  the  stroke  of  its  bullet. 

This  disagreeable  surprise  he  never  expected  could  come 
from  the  sea,  but  was  so  fully  anticipated  from  the  land,  that 
he  paid  but  little  or  no  attention  to  the  restless  waves  that 
were  breaking  with  low  moans  against  the  beach. 

As  he  turned  his  back  upon  the  water  for  the  hundredth 
time,  with  the  intention  of  walking  to  the  other  end  of  hia 
beat,  Golah  crept  gently  out  of  the  water  and  hastened  after 
him. 

Tlie  deep  sigliiug  of  the  waves  against  the  sliingly  shore 
hindered  tlie  sound  of  footsteps  I'rotn  being  heard. 

Golah  was  only  armed  with  a  scimitar  ;  but  it  was  a  wea- 
pon that,  in  his  hands,  was  sure  to  fall  with  deadly  effect. 
It  was  a  weapon  of  great  size  and  weight,  having  been  made 
expressly  for  him.-elf;  and  with  this  upraised,  he  silently 
but  swiftly  gUded  after  the  unconscious  Arab. 

Adding  the  whole  strength  of  liis  powerful  arm  to  the 
weight  of  the  weapon,  the  black  sheik  brought  its  sharp 


GOLAn  CALLS   AGAIN.  227 

edga   slantingly  down  upon  the  neck  of  the  unsnr^pecuug 
sentinel. 

With  a  low  moan,  that  iounded  in  jerfect  harmony  with 
the  sighing  of  the  waves,  \.he  Arab  fell  to  the  earth,  leaving 
hia  musket  in  the  huge  liand  his  assassin  had  stretched  forth 
to  grasp  it.  Pnttmg  the  gun  to  full  cock,  Golah  walked  on 
in  the  direction  in  which  the  sentry  had  been  going.  Ha 
intended  next  to  encounter  tlie  man  who  was  guarding  the 
eastern  side  of  the  doiiar.  Walking  boldy  on,  he  took  no 
trouble  to  avoid  the  sound  of  his  footsteps  being  lieard,  be- 
lieving that  he  would  be  taken  for  the  sentry  he  had  just 
slain.  After  going  about  a  hundred  paces  wthout  seeing 
any  one,  he  paused,  and  with  his  large  fiercely  gleaming 
eyes  strove  to  penetrate  the  surrounding  gloom.  Still  no 
one  was  to  be  seen,  and  he  laid  him.-elf  along  the  earth  to 
listen  for  footfalls. 

Nothing  could  be  lieard  ;  but  after  glancing  for  some  mo 
ments  along  the  ground,  he  saw  a  dark  object  outlined  above 
the  surfoce.  Unable,  from  the  distance,  to  form  a  correct 
idea  of  what  it  was,  he  cautiously  advanced  towards  it,  keep- 
ing on  all  fours,  till  he  could  see  that  the  object  was  a  hu- 
man being,  prostrate  on  the  ground,  and  apparently  listening, 
Uke  liimself.  Why  should  the  man  be  listening  ?  Not  to 
note  the  approach  of  his  companion,  for  that  sliould  be  ex- 
pected without  suspicion,  as  his  attitude  would  indicate.  He 
might  be  asleep,  reasoned  Golah.  If  so,  Fortune  seemed  to 
favor  him,  and  with  this  rellection  he  steadily  moved  on  t  - 
wards  the  prostrate  form. 

Though  the  latter  moved  not,  still  Golah  was  not  quite 
sure  that  the  sentry  was  asleep.  Again  he  paused,  and  for 
a  moment  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  body  with  a  piercing  gaze. 
If  the  man  was  not  sleepuig,  why  should  he  allow  an  enemy 
to  approach  so  near  ?  Why  lie  so  quietly,  without  showing 
any  sign  or  giving  an  alarm  ?  If  Golah  could  despatch  thia 
sentinel  as  he  had  done  the  other,  withrut  making  any  noise, 


228  THE   BOY   SLAVES. 

he  would,  along  with  his  two  relatives  (who  were  waiting 
the  resuL  of  his  adventure),  afterwards  steal  into  the  douar, 
and  all  he  had  lost  might  be  again  recovered. 

The  chiinee  was  worth  the  risk,  fo  thought  Golah,  and 
silently  moved  on. 

As  he  drew  nearer,  he  saw  that  the  man  was  lying  on  his 
side,  with  his  face  turned  towards  him,  and  partly  concealed 
by  one  arm. 

The  black  sheik  could  see  no  gun  m  his  hands,  and  con- 
sequently there  would  be  but  little  danger  in  an  encounter 
with  him,  if  such  should  chance  to  arise. 

Golah  grasped  the  heavy  scimitar  in  his  right  hand,  evi- 
dently intending  to  despatch  his  victim  as  he  had  done  the 
other,  with  a  single  blow. 

The  head  could  be  severed  from  the  body  at  one  stroke, 
and  no  akrm  would  be  given  to  the  slumbering  camp. 

The  heavy  blade  of  shining  steel  was  raised  aloft ;  and 
the  giipe  of  the  powerful  hand  clutching  its  hilt  became 
more  firm  and  determined. 

Sailor  Bill !  has  your  promise  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout 
been  broken  so  soon  ? 

Beware!  Golah  is  near  with  strength  in  his  arm,  and 
murder  in  his  mind! 


CHAPTER    LXI. 

SAILOR    BILL    STANDENG    SENTRl. 

AFTER  two  hours  had  been  passed  in  moving  slowly 
to  and  fro,  hearing  the  word  "■Mka"  and  seeing  noth- 
iug  but  gray  sand.  Sailor  Bill  began  to  feel  weaiy,  and  no\^ 
regretted  that  the  old  sheik  had  honored  him  with  his  couli 
dence. 


SAILOR   BILL   STANDING   SENTRY.  229 

For  /.he  first  hour  of  his  watch  he  had  kept  a  good  look- 
out to  the  eastward,  and  had  given  the  whole  of  his  attention 
to  his  sentinel's  duty. 

Gradually  his  intense  alertness  forsook  him,  and  he  began 
to  think  of  the  past  and  future. 

Themes  connected  with  these  subjects  seldom  troubled 
Bill,  —  his  thoughts  generally  dwelling  upon  the  present; 
but,  in  the  darkne-s  and  solitude  in  which  he  was  now  placed, 
there  was  but  little  of  the  present  to  arrest  his  attention. 
For  the  want  of  something  else  to  amuse  his  mind,  it  was 
turned  to  the  small  cannon  he  was  carrying  ^  his  hand. 

"  This  'ere  thing,"  thought  he,  "  aint  o'  much  use  as  a  pis- 
tol, though  it  might  be  used  as  a  war-club  at  close  quarters. 
I  hope  I  shan't  'ave  to  fire  it  hoff.  The  barrel  is  thin,  and 
the  bullet  hinside  it  must  be  a'most  as  large  as  an  'en's  heg. 
It  ud  be  like  enough  to  bust.  Preaps  't  aint  loaded,  and  may 
'ave  been  given  to  me  for  amusement.  I  may  as  well  make 
sure  about  that." 

After  groping  about  for  some  time,  the  sailor  succeeded 
in  finding  a  small  piece  of  stick,  with  which  he  measured  the 
length  of  the  barrel  on  the  outside ;  then,  by  inserting  the 
Btick  into  the  muzzle,  he  found  that  the  depth  of  the  barrel 
was  not  quite  equal  to  its  length. 

There  must  be  something  inside  therefore,  but  he  was  pos- 
itive there  was  no  ball.  He  next  examined  the  pan,  and 
found  the  priming  all  right. 

"  I  see  'ow  'tis,"  muttered  he,  "the  old  sheik  only  wants 
me  to  make  a  row  with  it,  in  case  I  sees  anything  as  is  sus- 
picious. He  was  afeard  to  put  a  ball  in  it  lest  I  should  be 
killin'  one  of  themselves.  That 's  his  confidence.  He  on'y 
wants  me  to  bark  without  being  able  to  bite.  But  this  don't 
euit  me  at  all,  at  all.  Faix,  I  '11  find  a  bit  of  a  stone  an(? 
ram  it  into  the  barrel." 

Saying  this  he  groped  about  the  ground  in  search  of  a 
pebble  of  the  proper  size  ;  but  for  some  time  could  find  non6 


230  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

to  bis  liking.  He  could  lay  his  hand  on  nothing  but  the 
finest  sand. 

While  engaged  in  this  search  he  fancied  he  heard  some 
one  approaching  from  the  side  opposite  to  that  in  which  he 
was  expecting  to  hear  the  word  "  AhJca." 

He  looked  in  that  direction,  but  could  see  nothing  save 
the  gray  surface  of  the  sea-beach. 

Since  being  on  the  desert  Bill  had  several  times  observed 
the  Arabs  lay  themselves  along  the  earth  to  listen  for  the 
sound  of  footsteps.     This  plan  he  now  tried  himself. 

With  his  eyes  close  to  the  ground,  the  old  sailor  fancied 
he  was  able  to  see  to  a  greater  distance  than  when  standing 
upright.  There  seemed  to  be  more  light  on  the  surface  of 
the  earth  than  at  four  or  five  feet  above  it ;  and  objects  in 
the  distance  were  placed  more  directly  between  his  eyes  and 
the  horizon. 

While  thus  lying  extended  along  the  sand,  he  heard  foot- 
steps approaching  from  the  shore ;  but,  believing  they  were 
those  of  the  sentinel,  he  paid  no  attention  to  them.  He  only 
listened  for  a  repetition  of  those  sounds  he  fancied  to  have 
come  from  the  opposite  direction. 

But  nothing  was  now  heard  to  the  eastward;  and  he 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  been  deceived  by  an  ex- 
cited fancy. 

Of  one  thing,  however,  he  soon  became  certain.  It  was, 
that  the  footsteps  which  he  supposed  to  be  those  of  the  Arab 
who  kept,  what  Bill  called,  the  "  larboard  watch,"  were 
drawing  nearer  than  usual,  and  that  the  word  '■'■Ahka  "  was 
not  pronounced  as  before. 

The  old  sailor  sle\\ed  himself  around,  and  directed  hia 
gaze  towards  the  shore. 

The  sound  of  footsteps  was  no  longer  heard,  but  the  figure 
of  a  man  was  perceived  at  no  great  distance  from  the  spot. 

Ho  was  not  advancing  nearer,  but  standing  erect,  and  ap- 
parently gizing  ftharply  about  him. 


SAILOR   DILL  STANDING   SENTRY.  231 

Could  this  man  be  the  Arab  sentinel  ? 

The  latter  was  known  to  be  short  and  of  slight  frame, 
rhile  ti.a  man  now  seen  appeared  tall  and  of  stout  build. 
Instead  of  remaining  in  his  upright  attitude,  and  uttering,  as 
the  sentry  sLould  have  done,  the  word  '"  Akka"  the  stranger 
was  seen  to  stoop  down,  and  place  his  ear  close  to  the  earth 
.Ks  if  to  listen. 

During  a  moment  or  two  while  the  man's  eyes  appeared 
to  be  turned  away  from  him,  the  sailor  took  the  precaution 
to  till  the  barrel  of  his  pistol  with  sand. 

Should  he  give  the  alarm  by  firing  off  the  pistol,  and  then 
run  towards  the  camp  ? 

No  !  he  might  have  been  deceived  by  an  excited  imagina- 
tion. The  individual  before  him  might  possibly  be  the 
Arab  guard  trying  to  discover  his  presence  belbre  giving 
the  sign. 

While  the  sailor  was  thus  undecided,  the  huge  form  drew 
■nearer,  approaching  on  all  fours.  It  came  within  eight  or 
ten  paces  of  the  spot,  and  then  slowly  assumed  an  upright 
position.  Bill  now  saw  it  was  not  the  sentinel  but  the  black 
sheik ! 

The  old  man-o'-war's-man  was  never  more  frightened  in 
his  life.  He  thought  of  discharging  the  pi.-tol,  and  running 
back  to  the  douar ;  but  then  came  the  thought  that  he  would 
certainly  be  shot  down  the  instant  he  should  rise  to  his  feet ; 
and  fear  held  him  motionless. 

Golah  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  the  sailor  seeing 
,he  scimitar  uplifted  suddenly  formed  the  resolution  to 
jict. 

Prjjecting  the  muzzle  of  his  huge  pistol  towards  the 
black,  he  pulled  the  trigger,  and  at  the  same  instant  sprang 
to  his  feet. 

There  was  a  loud  deafening  report,  followed  by  a  veil  of 
j«rild  agony. 

Bill  stayed  not  to  note  the  effect  of  his  fire :  but  ran  as 


232  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

fast  as  his  legs  would  cany  liim  towards  the  camp,  —  abreadj 
alarmed  by  the  report  of  the  pistol. 

The  Arabs  were  running  to  and  fro  in  terrible  fear  anj 
confusion,  shouting  as  they  ran. 

Amidst  these  shouts  was  heai-d,  —  in  the  direction  from 
which  the  sailor  liad  fled,  —  a  loud  voice  frantically  calling, 
"Muley!  Muley ! " 

"  'T  is  the  voice  of  Golah ! "  exclaimed  the  Krooman  in 
Arabic.  "  He  is  calling  for  his  son,  —  Muley  is  his  son's 
name ! " 

"  They  are  going  to  attack  the  douar,"  shouted  tlie  Arab 
sheik,  and  his  words  were  followed  by  a  scene  of  the  wildest 
terror. 

The  Arabs  rushed  here  and  there,  mingling  their  cries 
with  those  of  the  slaves ;  while  women  shrieked,  cliildren 
screamed,  dogs  barked,  horses  neighed,  and  even  the  quiet 
camels  gave  voice  to  their  alarm. 

In  the  confusion  the  two  wives  of  Golah,  taking  their  chil- 
dren along  with  them,  hurried  away  from  the  camp,  and 
escaped  undiscovered  in  the  darkness. 

They  had  heard  the  voice  of  the  father  of  their  children, 
and  understood  that  accent  of  anguish  in  which  he  had  called 
out  the  name  of  his  son. 

They  were  women,  —  women  who,  although  dreading 
their  tjrant  husband  in  his  day  of  power,  now  pitied  him  in 
his  hour  of  misfortune. 

The  Arabs,  anxiously  expecting  the  appearance  of  their 
enemy,  in  great  haste  made  ready  to  meet  him ;  but  they 
were  left  unmolested. 

In  a  few  minutes  all  was  quiet :  not  a  sound  was  heard 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  douar ;  and  the  late  alarm  might  have 
appeared  only  a  panic  of  groundless  fear. 

The  light  of  day  was  gradually  gathering  in  the  east  when 
the  Arab  sheik,  recovering  from  liis  excitement,  ventured  U 
make  an  examination  of  the  douar  and  its  denizens. 


GOLAH  FULFILS  HIS   DESTINY.  233 

Two  important  facts  presented  themselves  as  evidence, 
that  the  fright  they  had  experienced  was  not  without  a 
cause.  The  sentry  who  had  been  stationed  to  guard  AiQ 
camp  on  its  southern  side  was  not  present,  and  Golah's  (wo 
wives  and  their  chiklren  were  also  absent ! 

There  could  be  no  mystery  about  the  disappearance  of 
the  women.  They  had  gone  to  rejoin  the  man  whose  \oice 
had  been  heard  calling  "Muley." 

But  where  was  the  Arab  sentry?  Had  another  of  the 
party  fallen  a  victim  to  the  vengeance  of  Golah? 


CHAPTER    LXII. 

GOLAII    FULFILS    HIS    DESTINY. 

ry^AKING  the  Krooman  by  one  arm,  the  Arab  sheik  led 
a  him  up  to  the  old  man-o'-war's-man,  who,  sailor-like 
having  finished  his  watch,  had  gone  to  sleep. 

After  being  awakened  by  the  sheik,  the  Krooman  was  told 
to  ask  the  white  man  why  he  fired  his  pistol. 

"  Why,  to  kill  Golah,  —  the  big  nager  ! "  answered  Bill ; 
■*  an'  I  'm  mighty  desaved  if  I  'ave  not  done  it." 

This  answer  was  communicated  to  the  sheik,  who  had  the 
art  of  expressing  unbelief  with  a  peculiar  smile,  which  he 
now  practised. 

Bill  was  asked  if  he  had  seen  the  black  sheik. 

"  Seen  him !  sartinly  I  did,"  answered  the  sailor.  "  He 
was  not  more  nor  four  paces  from  me  at  the  time  I  pc[)per€d 
'im.     I  tell  you  he  is  gone  and  done  for." 

The  sleik  shook  his  head,  and  again  smiled  incredu- 
lously. 

Further  inquiries  were  interrupted  by  the  discovery  of 


234  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

the  body  of  the  Arab  sentinel  whom  Golah  had  killed,  aiid 
all  clustei-ed  around  it. 

The  man's  head  was  nearly  severed  from  his  body ;  and 
the  blow  —  which  must  have  caused  instant  death  —  had 
evidently  *^een  given  by  the  black  sheik.  Near  the  coq)se, 
tracks  were  observed  in  the  sand  such  as  no  other  human 
being  but  Golah  could  have  made. 

It  was  now  broad  daylight ;  and  the  Arabs,  glancing  along 
the  shore  to  southward,  made  another  discovery. 

Two  camels  with  a  hor.~e  were  seen  upon  the  beach  about 
half  a  mile  off;  and,  leaving  one  of  their  number  to  guard 
the  douar,  the  old  sheik  with  his  followers  staited  off  in 
the  hoi3e  of  recovering  some  of  the  property  they  had 
lost. 

They  were  followed  by  most  of  the  slaves  ;  who,  by  the 
misfortunes  of  their  master,  were  under  less  restraint. 

On  arriving  near  the  place  where  the  camels  were,  the 
young  man  we  have  described  as  Golah's  brother-in-law, 
was  found  to  be  in  charge  of  them.  He  was  lying  on  the 
ground ;  but  on  the  approach  of  the  Arabs,  he  sprang  to  hij 
feet,  at  the  same  time  holding  up  botli  his  hands. 

He  carried  no  weapon;  and  the  gesture  signified,  "It  is 
peace." 

The  two  women,  surrounded  by  their  children,  were  near 
by,  sitting  silent  and  sorrowfid  on  the  sea-beach.  They 
took  Ao  heed  of  the  approach  of  the  Arabs ;  and  did  not 
even  look  up  as  the  latter  drew  near. 

The  muskets  and  other  weapons  were  lying  about.  One 
of  Uie  camels  was  down  upon  the  sand.  It  was  dead ;  and 
the  young  negro  was  in  the  act  of  eating  a  large  piece  of 
raw  flesh  he  had  severed  from  its  hump. 

The  Arab  sheik  inquired  after  Golah.  He  to  whom  the 
inquiry  was  directed  pointed  to  the  sea,  where  two  dark 
bodies  were  seen  tumbling  al)out  in  the  surf  as  it  brokl 
against  the  shuigle  of  the  beach. 


GOLAH  FULFILS  HIS  DESTINY.  235 

The  tlu-ee  nidshipraen,  at  the  command  of  the  ;heik, 
waded  iu,  and  dragged  the  bodies  out  of  the  \\ater. 

Thf;y  were  recognized  as  those  of  Golah  and  hia  son, 
Muley. 

Golah's  face  api)eared  to  have  been  frightfully  lacerated ; 
and  his  once  large  tierce  eyes  were  altogether  gone. 

Tiie  brother-in-law  was  called  on  to  explain  the  myste- 
rious death  of  the  black  sheik  and  his  son. 

His  explanation  was  as  follows:  — 

"  I  heard  Golah  calling  for  Muley  after  hearing  the  report 
of  a  gun.  From  that  I  knew  that  he  was  wounded.  IMuley 
ran  to  assist  him,  while  I  stayed  behind  with  the  horse  and 
camels.  I  am  starving !  Very  soon  IMuley  came  running 
back,  followed  by  his  father,  who  seemed  possessed  of  an 
evil  spirit.  He  ran  this  way  and  that  way,  swinging  his 
scimitar  about,  and  trying  to  kill  us  both  as  well  as  the 
camels.  He  could  not  see,  and  we  managed  to  keep  out  of 
his  way.     I  am  starving ! " 

The  young  negro  here  paused,  and,  once  more  picking  up 
the  piece  of  camel's  flesh,  proceeded  to  devour  it  with  an 
alacrity  that  proved  the  truth  of  his  assertion. 

"  Pig  !  "  exclaimed  the  sheik,  "  tell  your  story  first,  and 
eat  afterwards." 

"  Praise  be  to  Allah ! "  said  the  youth,  as  he  resumed  his 
narrative,  "  Golah  ran  against  one  of  the  camels  and  killed 
it." 

His  listeners  looked  towards  the  dead  camel.  They  saw 
that  the  body  bore  the  marks  of  Golah's  great  scimitar. 

"After  killing  the  camel,"  continued  the  young  man,  '-  (ho 
sheik  became  quiet.  The  evil  spirit  had  passed  out  of  him; 
and  he  sat  down  upon  the  sand.  Tlicn  his  wives  came  up 
to  him ;  and  he  talked  to  them  kindly,  and  put  his  luinda 
on  each  of  tlie  children,  and  called  them  by  name.  They 
Bcreamed  when  they  looked  at  him,  and  Golah  told  them 
not   to   be    f:-ightened;    that   he  would  wash  his  fac«  and 


Y3b  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

frighten  thera  no  more.  The  little  boy  led  him  to  the  water 
and  he  rushed  into  the  sea  as  far  as  be  could  wade.  Ha 
went  there  to  die.  Mulej  ran  after  to  bring  him  out,  and 
they  were  both  drowned.  I  could  not  help  them,  for  I  waa 
starving!" 

The  emaciated  appearance  of  the  narrator  gave  stroug 
evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  concluding  words  of  his  story. 
For  nearly  a  week  he  had  been  travelling  night  and  day, 
and  the  want  of  sleep  and  food  could  not  have  been  much 
longer  endured. 

At  the  command  of  the  Arab  chief,  the  slaves  now  buried 
the  bodies  of  Golah  and  his  son. 

Gratified  at  his  good  fortune,  in  being  relieved  from  all 
fiirther  trouble  with  his  iraplacalile  foeman,  the  sheik  deter- 
mined to  have  a  day  of  rest,  which  to  liis  slaves  was  very 
welcome,  as  was  also  the  flesh  of  the  dead  camel,  now  gives 
them  to  eat. 

About  the  death  of  Golah  there  was  still  a  mystery  the 
Arabs  could  not  comprehend ;  and  the  services  of  the  Kroo- 
man  as  interpreter  were  again  called  into  requisition. 

When  tlie  sheik  learnt  what  the  sailor  had  done,  —  how 
the  pistol  had  been  made  an  effective  weapon  by  filling  the 
barrel  with  sand,  —  he  expressed  much  satisfaction  at  the 
manner  in  which  the  old  man-o'-war's-man  had  performed 
his  duty. 

Full  of  gratitude  for  the  service  thus  rendered  him,  he 
promised  that  not  only  the  sailor  himself,  but  the  boy  slaves, 
his  companions,  should  be  taken  to  JNIogador,  ar  .d  restored  to 
their  friends. 


ON  -THE  EDGE  OF  THE  SAARA.  237 

CHAPTER    LXIII. 

ON    THE    EDGE    OF    THE    SAARA. 

AFTER  a  journey  of  two  long  dreary  days  —  days  tha 
were  to  the  boy  slaves  pei-iods  of  agonizing  torture, 
from  fatigue,  hunger,  thirst,  and  exposure  to  a  burning  sun 
—  the  kafila  arrived  at  another  watering-place. 

As  they  drew  near  the  place,  our  adventui*ers  perceived 
that  it  was  the  same  where  they  had  first  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  Golah. 

"  May  God  help  us  !  "  exclaimed  Harry  Blount,  as  they 
approached  the  place.  "  We  have  been  here  before.  We 
shall  find  no  water,  I  fear.  We  did  not  leave  more  than 
two  bucketfuls  in  the  hole ;  and  as  there  has  been  no  rain 
since,  that  must  be  dried  up,  long  ago. 

An  expression  of  hopeless  despair  came  over  the  coun- 
tenances of  his  companions.  They  had  seen,  but  a  few  days 
before,  nearly  all  the  water  drawn  out  of  the  pool,  and  given 
to  the  camels. 

Their  fears  were  soon  removed,  and  followed  by  the  real 
gratification  of  a  desire  they  had  long  been  indulging  —  the 
desire  to  quench  their  thirst.  There  was  plenty  of  water  in 
the  pool  —  a  heavy  deluge  of  rain  having  fallen  over  the 
little  valley  since  they  had  left  it. 

The  small  supply  of  food  possessed  by  the  tiavellers 
would  not  admit  of  their  making  any  delay  at  this  watering- 
place  ;  and  the  next  morning  the  journey  was  resum-id. 

The  Arabs  appeared  to  bear  no  animosity  towards  the 
young  man  who  had  assisted  Golah  in  killing  their  compan- 
ions ;  and  now  that  the  black  sheik  was  dead,  they  had  no 
fear  that  the  former  wouM  try  to  escape.  The  negro  waa 
one  of  those  human  beings  who  cannot  own  themselves,  and 
who   never  feel  at  home  unless  vith  some  one  to  control 


238  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

them.  He  quietly  took  his  place  along  with  the  otbeJ 
slaves,  —  apparently  resi,2:ned  to  liis  fate,  —  a  fate  that 
doomed  him  to  perpetual  slavery,  though  a  condition  but  li<^- 
tle  lowei-  than  that  he  had  occupied  with  his  brother-in-law. 

Eight  days  were  now  passed  in  journeying  in  a  direction 
that  led  a  little  to  the  east  of  north. 

To  the  white  slaves  they  wei-e  days  of  indescribable  ago- 
ny, from  those  two  terrible  evils  that  assail  all  travellers 
through  the  Saiiia,  —  hunger  and  thirst.  Within  the  dis- 
tance passed  during  these  eight  days  they  found  but  one 
watering-place,  where  the  supply  was  not  only  small  in 
quantity  but  bad  in  quality. 

It  was  a  well,  nearly  dried  up,  containing  a  little  water, 
offensive  to  sight  and  smell,  and  only  rendered  endurable  to 
taste  by  the  irresistible  power  of  thirst. 

The  surface  of  the  pool  was  covered  nearly  an  incli  thick 
with  dead  insects,  which  had  to  be  removed  to  reach  the 
discolored  element  beneath.  They  were  not  only  compelled 
to  use,  but  were  even  thankful  to  obtain,  this  impure  bev- 
erage. 

The  route  followed  during  these  eight  days  was  not  along 
the  seashore ;  and  they  were  therefore  deprived  of  the 
opportunity  of  satisfying  their  hunger  with  shell-fish.  Tiie 
Arabs  were  in  haste  to  reach  some  place  where  they  could 
procure  food  for  their  animals,  and  at  the  pace  at  which 
tliey  rode  f(>rward,  it  required  tlie  utmost  exertion  on  the 
part  of  their  slaves  to  keep  up  with  them. 

The  old  man-o'-war's-man,  unused  to  land  travelling,  could 
never  have  held  out,  had  not  t'/e  Arabs  allowed  him,  part  of 
the  time,  to  I'ide  on  a  camel.  The  feat  he  had  performed,  in 
ridding  them  of  that  enemy  who  had  troubled  them  so  much 
—  and  who,  had  he  not  been  thwarted  in  his  attack  upon  the 
camp,  would  probably  have  killed  them  all  —  had  inspired 
bis  masters  with  some  slight  gratitude.  The  sailor,  there- 
fore, \>as  permitted  to  ride,  when  they  saw  that  other  wist 


OjS  the  edge  of  the  SAARA.       239 

Ihey  would  have  to  leave  him  hehind  to  die  upon  the  des- 
ert. 

During  the  last  two  days  of  the  eight,  our  adventurers 
noticed  something  in  the  appearance  of  the  country,  over 
which  t)iey  were  moving,  that  inspired  them  with  hope.  The 
face  of  the  landsca])e  became  more  uneven  ;  while  here  and 
tLere  stunted  bushes  and  weeds  were  seen,  as  if  struggling 
between  life  and  death. 

The  kafila  had  arrived  on  the  northern  border  of  the 
great  Saiira;  and  a  few  days  more  would  bring  them  to 
green  fields,  shady  groves,  and  streams  of  sparkling  water. 

Something  resemlding  the  latter  was  soon  after  discovered. 
At  the  close  of  the  eightli  day  tliey  reached  the  bed  of  what 
appeared  to  be  a  river  recently  dried  up.  Although  there 
was  no  current  they  found  some  pools  of  stagnant  water: 
and  beside  one  of  these  the  douar  was  establi-hed. 

On  a  hill  to  the  north  were  growing  some  green  shrubs 
to  which  the  camels  were  driven ;  and  upon  these  ihey  im- 
mediately commenced  browsing.  Not  only  the  leaves,  but 
the  twigs  and  branches  were  rapidl}'  twisted  off  by  the  long 
prehensile  lips  of  the  animals,  and  as  greedily  devoured. 

It  was  twilight  as  the  camp  had  been  fairly  pitched ;  and 
just  then  two  men  were  seen  coming  touards  them  leading 
a  camel.  They  were  making  for  the  pools  of  water,  for 
the  purpose  of  filling  some  goat  skins  which  were  carried 
on  their  camel.  Tliey  appeared  both  surprised  and  annoyed 
to  find  the  pools  in  possession  of  strangers. 

Seeing  they  could  not  escape  observation,  the  men  cania 
boldly  forward,  and  commenced  filling  their  goat-skins. 
While  thus  engaged  they  told  the  Arab  sheik  that  they  be- 
longed to  a  caravan  near  at  hand  that  was  journeying  south- 
ward; and  that  they  should  continue  their  journey  earlj 
the  next  morning. 

After  the  dej)arture  of  the  two  men  the  Arabs  he'd  « 
conwjltation. 


240  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

"  They  hnve  told  us  a  lie,"  remarked  the  old  sheik,  "  thej 
are  not  on  a  journey,  or  they  would  have  halted  here  by 
the  water.  By  the  beard  of  our  Prophet  they  have  spoken 
falsely ! " 

With  this  opinion  his  followers  agreed ;  and  it  was  sug- 
gested that  the  two  men  they  had  seen  were  of  some  party 
encamped  by  the  seashore,  and  undoubtedly  amusing  thera- 
Belves  with  a  wreck,  or  gathering  wealth  in  some  other  un- 
usual way. 

Here  was  an  opportunity  not  to  be  lost ;  and  the  Arabs 
determined  to  have  a  share  in  whatever  good  fortune  Provi- 
dence might  have  thrown  in  the  way  of  those  already  upon 
the  ground.  If  it  should  prove  to  be  a  wreck  there  might 
be  serious  difficulty  with  those  already  in  possession ;  it  was 
resolved,  therefore,  to  wait  for  the  morning,  when  they  could 
form  a  better  opinion  of  their  chances  of  success,  should  a 
t»nflict  be  necessary  to  secure  it. 


CHAPTER    LXIV. 


THE    RIVAL    WRECKERS. 


EARLY  next  morning  the  kafila  was  en  route  for  the 
seashore,  which  was  discovered  not  far  distant.  On 
coming  near  a  douar  of  seven  tents  was  seen  sxudrng 
upon  the  beach :  and  several  men  stepped  forwai'd  to  re- 
ceive them. 

The  usual  salutations  were  exchanged,  and  the  new  com- 
ers began  to  look  about  them.  Several  pieces  of  timber 
lying  along  t!ie  shore  gave  evidence  that  their  conjecture, 
as  to  a  wreck  having  taken  place,  had  been  a  correct  one. 

"  There  is  but  one  God,  and  He  is  kind  to  is  all,"  sai<i 


THE  RIVAL  WRECKERS.  241 

the  old  sheik;  "He  casts  the  ships  of  unbelievers  on  cui 
shores,  and  we  have  come  to  claim  a  share  of  Ilis  favors." 

"  You  are  welcome  to  all  you  can  justly  claim,"  answered 
a  tall  man,  who  appeared  to  be  the  leader  of  the  party  of 
wreckers.  "  Mahomet  is  :he  prophet  of  Him  who  sends 
t'lvors  to  all,  both  good  and  bad.  If  he  has  sent  anything 
for  you,  look  along  the  sea-beach  and  find  it." 

On  this  invitation  the  camels  of  the  kafila  were  unloaded, 
and  the  tents  pitched.  The  new-comers  then  set  about 
searching  for  the  debris  of  the  wrecked  vessel. 

They  discovered  only  some  spars,  and  other  pieces  of 
Bhip-ti'ubers,  which  were  of  no  value  to  either  party. 

A  consultation  now  took  place  between  the  old  sheik  and 
his  followers.  They  were  unanimous  in  the  belief  that  a 
sunken  ship  was  near  them,  and  that  they  had  only  to  watch 
the  rival  wreckers,  and  learn  where  she  was  submerged. 

Desisting  from  their  search,  they  resolved  to  keep  a  look- 
out. 

When  this  determination  became  known  to  the  other 
party,  its  chief,  after  conferring  with  his  companions,  came 
forward,  and,  announcing  himself  as  the  representative  of 
his  people,  proposed  a  conference. 

"I  am  Sidi  Hamet,"  said  he,  "and  the  others  you  see 
here  are  my  friends  and  relatives.  We  are  all  members  of 
the  Fame  family,  and  faithful  followers  of  the  Prophet.  God 
is  great,  and  has  been  kind  to  us.  He  has  sent  us  a  prize. 
We  are  about  to  gather  the  gifts  of  His  mercy.  Go  your 
way,  and  leave  us  in  peace." 

"  I  am  Rias  Abdallah  Yezzed,"  answered  the  old  sheik, 
"  and  neither  my  companions  nor  myself  are  so  bad  but 
that  we,  too,  may  be  numbered  among  those  who  are  entitled 
to  God's  favor,  when  it  pleases  Him  to  cast  on  our  shores 
the  ships  of  the  infidel." 

In  rejoinder  Sidi  Hamet  entered  upon  a  long  harangue ;  in 
which  he  informed  the  old  sheik  tha*  in  the  event  of  a  ves« 
11 


242  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

sel  having  gone  to  pieces,  and  tlie  coast  having  been  strowa 
with  merchaudise,  each  party  would  have  been  entitled  to 
all  it  could  gather ;  but  unfortunately  for  both,  those  pleas- 
ant circumstances  did  not  now  exist ;  although  it  was  true, 
that  the  hulk  of  a  vessel,  containing  a  cargo  that  could  not 
wash  ashore  was  lying  under  water  near  by.  They  had  dia* 
covered  it,  and  tlierefore  laid  claim  to  all  that  it  contained. 

Sidi  Haraet's  part}'  was  a  strong  one,  consisting  of  seven- 
teen men ;  and  therefore  could  afford  to  be  communicative 
without  the  least  danger  of  being  disturbed  in  their  plans 
and  prospects. 

They  acknowledged  that  they  had  been  working  ten  days 
in  clearing  the  cargo  out  of  the  sunken  vessel,  and  that  their 
work  was  not  yet  half  done  —  the  goods  being  very  difficult 
to  get  at. 

The  old  sheik  inquired  of  what  the  cargo  consisted :  but 
could  obtain  no  satisfactory  answer. 

Here  was  a  mystery.  Seventeen  men  had  been  fourteen 
days  unloading  the  hulk  of  a  wrecked  ship,  and  yet  no  arti- 
cles of  merchandise  were  to  be  seen  near  the  spot ! 

A  few  casks,  some  pieces  of  old  sail,  with  a  number  ot 
cooking  utensils  that  had  belonged  to  a  ship's  galley,  lay 
upon  the  beach;  but  these  could  not  be  regarded  as  forming 
any  portion  of  the  cargo  of  a  ship. 

The  old  sheik  and  his  followers  were  in  a  quandary. 

They  had  often  heard  of  boxes  full  of  money  having  been 
obtained  from  wrecked  ships. 

Sailors  cast  away  upon  their  coast  had  been  known  to 
bury  such  commodities,  and  afterwards  under  torture  to  re- 
Teal  the  spot  where  the  interment  had  be^in  made. 

Had  this  vessel,  on  which  the  wreckers  were  engaged, 
been  freighted  with  money,  and  had  the  boxes  been  buried 
as  soon  as  brought  ashore  ? 

It  was  possible,  thought  the  new  comers.  They  must 
wait  and  learn ;  and  if  there  was  any  means  by  which  they 


THE  RIVAL   WBEOKERS.  24S 

fonld  claim  a  share  in  the  good  fortune  (;f  those  who  had 
first  discovered  the  wreck,  those  means  must  be  adc-pted. 

The  original  discoverers  were  too  impatient  to  stay  pvo 
ccedings  till  their  departure  ;  and  feeling  secure  in  the  supe- 
riority ol  numbers,  they  recommenced  their  task  of  dis- 
tjharging  tlie  submerged  hulk. 

They  advanced  to  the  water's  edge,  taking  along  wiin 
them  a  long  rope  that  had  been  found  attached  to  the  spars. 
At  one  end  of  this  rope  tliey  had  made  a  running  noose, 
which  was  made  fast  to  a  man,  who  swam  out  wnth  it  to  ine 
distance  of  about  a  hundred  yards. 

The  swimmer  then  dived  out  of  sight.  He  had  gone  be- 
low to  visit  the  wreck,  and  attach  the  rope  to  a  portion  oi 
the  cargo. 

A  minute  after  his  head  was  seen  above  the  surface,  and 
a  shout  was  sent  forth.  Some  of  his  companions  on  ttie 
beach  now  commenced  hauling  in  the  rope,  the  other  end 
of  which  had  been  left  in  their  hands. 

When  the  noose  was  pulled  ashore,  it  was  found  to  em- 
brace a  large  block  of  sandstone,  weighing  about,  twenty-tive 
or  thirty  pounds  ! 

The  Krooman  had  already  informed  Harry  Blount  and 
his  companions  of  something  he  had  learnt  from  the  conver- 
sation of  the  wreckers ;  and  the  three  mids  had  been  watcb- 
ing  with  considerable  interest  the  movements  of  the  diver 
and  his  assistants. 

When  the  block  of  sandstone  was  dragged  up  on  the 
beach,  they  stared  at  each  other  with  expressions  of  pro- 
found astonishment. 

No  wonder  :  the  wreckers  were  employed  in  clearing  the 
ballast  ou:  Df  a  sunken  ship  ! 

AVhat  could  be  their  object  ?  Our  adventurers  could  not 
guess.  Nor,  indeed,  could  the  wreckers  themselves  have 
given  a  good  reason  for  undgergoing  such  an  amount  oi  'u* 
diorous  labor 


S44  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Wliy  they  had  not  told  the  old  sheik  what  sort  of  cargo 
they  were  saving  from  the  wreck,  was  because  they  had  no 
certain  knowledge  of  its  value,  or  what  in  reality  it  was 
they  were  taking  so  much  time  and  trouble  to  get  safely 
ashore. 

As  they  believed  that  the  white  slaves  must  have  a  per- 
fect knowledge  of  the  subject  upon  which  they  were  them- 
selves so  ignorant,  they  closely  scanned  the  countenances 
of  the  latter  as  the  block  of  ballast  was  drawn  out  upon  the 
dry  sand. 

They  were  rewarded  for  their  scrutiny. 

The  surprise  exhibited  by  Sailor  Bill  and  the  three  mids 
confirmed  the  wreckers  in  their  belief  that  they  Avere  saving 
something  of  grand  value ;  for,  in  fact,  had  the  block  of 
sandstone  been  a  monstrous  nugget  of  gold,  the  boy  slaves 
could  not  have  been  more  astonished  at  beholding  it. 

Their  behavior  increased  the  ardor  of  the  salvors  in  the 
pursuit  in  which  they  were  engaged,  along  with  the  envy  of 
the  rival  party,  who,  by  the  laws  of  the  Saaran  coast,  were 
not  allowed  to  participate  in  their  toil. 

The  Krooman  now  endeavored  to  undeceive  his  master  as 
to  the  value  of  the  "  salvage,"  —  telling  hira  that  what  their 
rivals  were  taking  out  of  the  sunken  ship  was  uothiug  but 
worthless  stone. 

But  his  statement  was  met  with  a  smile  of  incredulity. 
Tiiose  engaged  in  getting  the  ballast  ashore  regarded  the 
Ki-ooman's  statements  with  equal  contempt.  He  was  either 
a  liar  or  a  fool,  and  therefore  unworthy  of  the  least  atten- 
tion.    "With  this  reflection  they  went  on  with  their  work. 

After  some  time  spent  in  reconsidering  the  subject,  the 
old  sheik  called  the  Krooman  aside ;  and  when  out  of  hear- 
ii:g  of  the  wreckers,  asked  him  to  give  an  explanation  of 
the  real  nature  of  what  he  himself  pers:6ted  in  cidling  the 
"cargo"  of  the  wreck,  —  as  well  as  a  true  ttatement  of 
Its  value. 


ANOTHER  WHITE  SLAVE.  24ft 

The  slave  did  as  he  was  desired ;  but  the  ohl  sheik  only 
Bhook  his  head,  once  more  declaring  his  incredulity. 

He  had  never  heard  of  a  ship  that  did  not  carry  a  cargo 
of  something  valuable.  He  thought  that  no  men  would  be 
so  stupid  and  fooli.>h  as  to  go  from  one  country  to  another 
in  ships  loaded  only  with  worthless  stones. 

Aa  nothing  else  in  the  shape  of  cargo  was  found  aboard 
the  wreck,  the  stones  must  be  of  some  value.  So  argued 
the  Arab. 

While  the  Krooman  was  trying  to  explain  the  real  pur- 
pose for  which  the  stones  had  been  placed  in  the  hold  of  the 
vessel,  one  of  the  wreckers  came  up  and  informed  him  that 
a  white  man  was  in  one  of  their  tents,  that  he  was  ill,  and 
wished  to  see  and  converse  with  the  infidel  slaves,  of  whose 
arrival  he  had  just  heard. 

The  Krooman  communicated  this  piece  of  intelligence  to 
our  adventurers  ;  and  the  tent  that  contained  the  sick  white 
man  having  been  pointed  out  to  them,  they  at  once  stalled 
towards  it,  expecting  to  see  some  unfortunate  countryman, 
who,  like  themselves,  had  been  cast  away  on  the  inhospita- 
ble shores  of  the  Saiii'a. 


CHAPTER    LXV. 

ANOTHER    "WHITE    SLAVE. 

ON  entering  within  the  tent  to  which  they  had  beeu 
directed,  they  found,  lying  upon  the  ground,  a  man 
about  forty  years  of  age.  Although  he  appeared  a  mere 
skeleton,  consisting  of  little  more  than  skin  and  bones,  he 
did  not  present  the  general  aspect  of  a  man  sufFeriug  from 
ill  health ;  nor  yet  would  he  have  passed  for  a  white  mai, 
anywhere  out  of  Africa. 


246  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

"You  are  the  first  English  people  I've  seen  f\,r  ovei 
thirty  years,"  said  he,  as  they  entered  the  tent :  "  for  I  cat 
tell  by  your  looks  that  every  one  of  you  are  English.  You 
are  my  countrymen.  I  was  Avhite  once  myself;  and  you 
will  be  as  black  as  I  am  when  you  have  been  sun-scorched 
here  for  forty-three  years,  as  I  have  been." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Terence ;  "  have  you  been  a  slave 
in  the  Saiira  so  long  as  that  ?  If  so,  God  help  us !  What 
hope  is  there  of  our  ever  getting  free  ?  " 

The  young  Irishman  spoke  in  a  tone  of  despair. 

"  Very  little  chance  of  your  ever  seeing  home  again,  my 
lad,"  answered  the  invalid  ;  "  but  /have  a  chance  now,  if  you 
and  your  comrades  don't  spoil  it.  For  God's  sake  don't  teU 
these  Arabs  that  they  are  the  fools  they  are  for  making 
salvage  of  the  ballast.  If  you  do,  they  '11  be  sure  to  make 
an  end  of  me.  It 's  all  ray  doing.  I  've  made  them  believe 
the  stones  are  valuable,  so  that  they  may  take  them  to  soma 
place  where  I  can  escape.  It  is  the  oidy  chance  I  have  had 
for  years,  —  don't  destroy  it,  as  you  value  the  life  of  a  fellow- 
countryman." 

From  further  conversation  with  the  man,  our  adventurers 
learned  that  he  had  been  shipwrecked  on  the  coast  many 
years  before,  and  had  ever  since  been  trying  to  get  trans- 
ported to  some  place  where  he  might  be  ransomed.  He  de- 
clared that  he  h:ird  been  backward  and  forward  across  the 
desert  forty  or  fifty  times  ;  and  that  he  had  belonged  to  not 
less  than  fifty  masters  ! 

"  I  have  only  been  with  these  fellows  a  few  weeks,"  said 
he,  "  and  fortunately  when  we  came  this  way  we  were  able 
to  tell  wliere  the  sunken  thip  was  by  seeing  her  foremast 
then  sticking  out  of  the  water.  The  vessel  was  in  ballast; 
and  tlio  crew  probably  put  out  to  sea  in  their  boats,  without 
being  discovered.  It  was  the  first  ship  my  masters  liad  ever 
heard  of  without  a  cargo ;  and  they  would  not  believe  but 
what  the  stoues  were  such,  aud  must  be  worth  somethuig— • 


ANOTHER  WHITE  SLAVE.  247 

«jj8o  why  should  they  be  ciirried  about  the  workl  in  a  ship. 
I  told  them  it  was  a  kind  of  stone  from  which  gold  Ts^as  ob- 
tained ;  but  that  it  must  be  taken  to  some  pktce  where  there 
was  plenty  of  coal  or  Avood,  before  the  gold  could  be  melted 
out  of  it,  and  then  intrusted  to  white  men  who  understood 
the  art  of  extracting  the  precious  metal  from  the  rocks. 

"  They  believe  all  this ;  for  they  can  see  shining  particles 
in  the  sandstone  which  they  think  is  really  gold,  or  some- 
thing that  can  be  converted  into  it.  For  four  days  they 
forced  me  to  toil,  at  diving  and  assisting  them  ;  but  that 
did  n't  suit  my  purpose  ;  and  I  've  at  length  succeeded  in 
making  them  believe  that  I  am  not  able  to  work  any 
longer." 

"  But  do  you  really  think,"  asked  Harry  Blount,  « that 
they  will  carry  the  ballast  any  distance  without  learning  its 
real  value?" 

"  Yes ;  I  did  think  that  they  might  take  it  to  Mogador, 
and  that  they  would  let  me  go  along  with  them." 

"  But  some  one  will  meet  them,  and  tell  them  that  their 
lading  is  worthless  ?  "  suggested  Colin. 

"  No,  I  think  that  fear  of  losing  their  valuable  freight  wi'l 
keep  them  from  letting  any  one  know  what  they  've  got 
Tliey  are  hiding  it  in  the  sand  now,  as  fast  as  they  get  it 
ashore,  for  fear  some  party  stronger  than  themselves  should 
come  along  and  take  it  away  from  them.  I  intend  to  tell 
them  after  they  have  started  on  their  journe) ,  not  to  let  any 
one  see  or  know  what  they  have,  until  they  are  safe  within 
the  walls  of  Mogador,  where  they  will  be  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  governor.  They  have  promised  to  take  me  along 
with  them,  and  if  I  once  get  within  sight  of  a  seaport,  not 
all  the  Arabs  in  Africa  will  hinder  me  from  recovering  my 
liberty." 

While  the  pretended  invalid  was  talking  to  them,  Sailor 

Bill  had  been  watching  him,  apparently  with  eager  interest. 

"Beg  pai'don  for   aving  a  small  taste  o'  differopoe  wi'3 


248  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

you  in  the  mather  ov  your  age,"  said  the  sailor,  as  soon  as 
the  man  had  ceased  speaking ;  "  but  I  '11  never  belave  you 
've  been  about  'ere  for  forty  years.  It  can't  be  so  long  aa 
that." 

The  two  men,  after  staring  at  each  other  for  a  moment, 
uttered  the  words  "  Jim  !  "  "  Bill ! "  and  then,  springing  for- 
ward, each  grasped  the  hand  of  the  other.  Two  brothers 
had  met ! 

The  three  mids  remembered  that  Bill  had  told  them  of  a 
brother,  who,  when  last  heard  from,  was  a  slave  somewhere 
in  the  Saiira,  and  they  needed  no  explanation  of  the  scene 
now  presented  to  them. 

The  two  brothers  were  left  alone ;  and  after  the  others 
had  gone  out  of  the  tent  they  returned  to  the  Krocman  — 
who  had  just  succeeded  in  convincing  the  sheik,  that  the 
stones  being  fished  out  of  the  sunken  ship  were,  at  that 
time  and  pLice,  of  no  value  whatever. 

All  attempts  on  the  part  of  the  old  sheik  to  convince 
the  wreckers,  as  he  had  been  convinced  himself,  pi-oved 
fruitless. 

The  arguments  he  used  to  them  were  repeated  to  the  sail- 
or. Bill's  brother ;  and  by  him  were  easily  upset  with  a  few 
words. 

"  Of  course  they  will  try  to  make  you  believe  the  cargo  is 
no  good,"  retorted  Jim.  "  They  wish  you  to  leave  it,  so  that 
they  can  have  it  all  to  themselves.  Does  not  common  sense 
tell  you  that  they  are  liars  ?  " 

This  was  conclusive ;  and  the  wreckers  continued  their 
toil,  extracting  stone  after  stone  out  of  the  hold  of  the  sub- 
merged ship. 

Sailor  Bill,  at  Lis  brother's  request,  tlien  summoned  hia 
companions  to  the  tent. 

"  Which  of  you  have  been  trying  to  do  me  an  injury  ?  " 
incpiired  Jim.  "  I  told  you  not  to  say  that  the  stones  wer« 
worthless." 


ANOTHER  WHITE  SLAVE.  249 

It  was  explained  to  him  how  the  Kroonan  had  been  en- 
lightening his  master. 

"  Call  the  Krooraan,"  said  Jim,  "  and  I  '11  enlighten  him. 
If  these  Arabs  find  out  that  they  have  been  deceived,  I  shall 
be  killed,  and  your  master — the  old  sheik  —  will  certiiinly 
lose  all  his  property.  Tell  him  to  come  here  also.  I  must 
talk  to  him.  Something  must  be  done  immediately,  or  I 
shall  be  killed." 

The  Krooman  and  the  old  sheik  were  conducted  in- 
to the  tent ;  and  Jim  talked  to  them  in  the  Arabic  lan- 
guage. 

"  Leave  my  masters  alone  to  their  folly,"  said  he  to  the 
sheik ;  "  and  they  will  be  so  busy  that  you  can  depart  in 
peace.  If  not,  and  you  convince  them  that  they  have  been 
deceived,  they  will  rob  you  of  all  you  have  got.  You  have 
already  said  enough  to  excite  their  suspicions,  and  they  will 
in  time  learn  that  I  have  been  humbugging  them.  My  life 
is  no  longer  safe  in  their  company.  You  buy  me,  then ;  and 
let  us  all  take  our  departure  immediately." 

"  Are  the  stones  in  the  wreck  really  worth  nothing  ? " 
asked  the  sheik. 

"  No  more  than  the  sand  on  the  shore ;  and  when  they 
find  out  that  such  is  the  case,  some  one  will  be  robbed. 
They  have  come  to  the  sea-coast  to  seek  wealth,  and  they 
will  have  it  one  way  or  the  other.  They  are  a  tribe  of  bad 
men.  Buy  me,  and  leave  them  to  continue  the  task  they 
Lave  so  ignorantly  undertaken." 

"  You  are  not  well,"  replied  the  sheik  ;  "  and  if  I  buy  you, 
you  cannot  walk."      ' 

"  Let  me  ride  on  a  camel  until  I  get  out  of  sight  of  these 
toy  masters,"  answered  Jim  ;  "  you  will  then  see  whether  1 
can  walk  or  not.  They  will  sell  me  cheap  ;  for  they  think 
I  am  done  up.  But  I  am  not ;  I  was  only  weary  of  diving 
after  worthless  stones." 

The  old  sheik  promised  to  follow  Jim's  advice ;  and  or« 
U* 


250  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

dered  his  companions  to  prepare  immediatelj  for  the  contia 
nance  of  their  journey. 

Sidi  Hamet  was  called,  and  asked  by  Riaa  Abdallah  if 
he  would  sell  some  of  the  stones  they  had  saved  from  th*^  in- 
fidel ship. 

"  Bismillah  !  No  !  "  exclaimed  the  wrecker.  "  You  say 
they  are  of  no  value,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  cheat  any  true 
believer  of  the  prophet." 

"  Will  you  give  me  some  of  them,  then  ?  " 

"  No  !  Allah  forbid  that  Sidi  Ilamet  should  ever  make  a 
worthless  present  to  a  friend  !  " 

"  I  am  a  merchant,"  rejoined  the  old  sheik ;  "  and  wish  tc 
do  business.  Have  you  any  slaves,  or  other  property  you 
can  sell  me  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  You  see  that  Christian  dog,"  replied  the  wreck- 
er pointing  to  Sailor  Bill's  brother ;  "  I  will  sell  him." 

"  You  have  promised  to  take  me  to  Swearah,"  interrupted 
Jim.  "  Do  not  sell  me,  raa'^ter ;  I  think  I  shall  get  well 
some  time,  and  will  then  work  for  you  as  hard  as  I  can." 

Sidi  Hamet  cast  upon  his  infidel  slave  a  look  of  contempt 
at  this  allusion  to  his  illness  ;  but  Jim's  remark,  and  the 
s»ogry  glance,  were  both  unheeded  by  the  Arab  sheik. 

The  slave's  pretended  wishes  not  to  be  sold  were  disre- 
garded ;  and  for  the  consideration  of  an  old  shirt  and  a  small 
camel-hair  tent,  he  became  the  property  of  Rias  Abdallah 
Yezzed. 

Tlie  old  sheik  and  his  followers  then  betook  themselves  to 
their  camels  ;  and  the  kafila  was  hurried  up  the  dry  bed  cf 
the  river,  —  leaving  the  wreckers  to  coatii  ue  their  toilflom* 
and  unpj-ofitabb  task. 


SAILOR  BILL'S  BROTHER.  251 

CHAPTER    LXVI. 

SAILOR   bill's    brother. 

AFTER  leaving  the  coast,  the  travellers  kept  at  a  quick 
pace,  and  Sailor  Bill  and  his  brother  had  but  little  op- 
portunity of  holding  converse  together.  When  the  douar 
had  been  pitched  for  the  night,  the  old  salt  and  the  "  young 
gentlemen,"  his  companions,  gathered  around  the  man  whose 
experience  in  the  miseries  of  Saaran  slavery  so  far  exceeded 
their  own. 

"  Now,  Jim,"  began  the  old  man-o'-war's-man,  "  you  must 
epin  us  the  yarn  of  all  your  cruising  since  you  've  been  here. 
We  've  seen  somethin'  o'  the  elephant  since  we  've  been  cast 
ashore,  and  that 's  not  long.  I  don't  wonder  at  you  sayin' 
70U  'ave  been  aboard  this  craft  forty-three  years." 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  correct  time  according  to  my  reckoning," 
interrupted  Jim  ;  "  but.  Bill,  you  don't  look  much  older  than 
when  I  saw  you  last.     How  long  ago  was  it  ?  " 

"  About  eleven  years." 

"  Eleven  years  !  I  tell  you  that  I  've  been  here  over 
forty." 

"  'Ow  can  that  be  ?  "  asked  Bill.  "  Daze  it,  man,  you  '11 
not  be  forty  years  old  till  the  fourteenth  o'  the  next  month. 
You  'ave  lost  yer  senses,  an'  in  troth,  it  an't  no  wonder ! " 

"  That  is  true,  for  there  is  nothing  in  the  Saiira  to  help  a 
man  keep  his  reckoning.  There  are  no  seasons  ;  and  every 
day  is  as  like  another  as  two  seconds  in  the  same  minute. 
But  surely  I  must  have  been  here  for  more  than  ele\en 
years." 

*'  No,"  answered  Bill,  "  ye  'ave  no  been  here  only  a  wee 
bit  langer  than  tin ;  but  afther  all  ye  must  'ave  suffered 
in  that  time,  it  is  quare  that  ye  should  a  know'd  me  at  all, 
Bt  all." 


252  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

"  I  did  not  know  you  until  you  spoke,"  rejoined  Jim 
"  Then  I  conld  u't  doubt  tliat  it  was  you  who  stood  before 
me,  when  I  heard  our  father's  broad  Scotch,  our  mother's 
Irish  brogue,  and  the  talk  of  the  cockneys  amongst  whom 
your  earliest  days  were  passed,  all  mingled  together." 

"  You  see,  Master  Colly,"  said  Bill,  turning  to  the  young 
Scotchman.  "  My  brother  Jim  has  had  the  advantage  of 
being  twelve  years  younger  than  I ;  and  when  he  was  old 
enough  to  go  to  school,  I  was  doing  something  to  help 
kape  'im  there,  and  for  all  that  I  believe  he  is  plased  to  see 
me." 

"  Pleased  to  see  you  !  "  exclaimed  Jim.  "  Of  course  I 
am." 

"  I  'm  sure  av  it,"  said  Bill. 

"  Well,  then,  brother,  go  ahead,  an'  spin  us  your  yarn." 

"  I  have  no  one  yarn  to  spin,"  replied  Jim,  "  for  a  narrA- 
tive  of  my  adventures  in  the  desert  would  consist  of  a  thou- 
sand yarns,  each  giving  a  description  of  some  severe  suffer- 
ing or  disappointment.  I  can  only  tell  you  that  it  seems  to 
me  that  I  have  passed  many  years  in  travelling  through  the 
sands  of  the  Saiira,  years  in  cultivating  barley  on  its  borders, 
years  in  digging  wells,  and  years  in  attending  flocks  of  goats, 
sheep,  and  other  animals.  I  have  had  many  masters,  —  all 
bad,  and  some  worse,  —  and  I  have  had  many  cruel  disap- 
pointments about  regaining  my  liberty.  I  was  once-within 
a  single  day's  journey  of  Mogador,  and  was  then  sold  again 
and  carried  back  into  the  very  heart  of  the  desert.  I  have 
attempted  two  or  three  times  to  escape ;  but  was  recaptured 
each  time,  and  nearly  killed  for  the  unpardonable  dishon- 
esty of  trying  to  rob  my  master  of  my  own  person.  I  have 
often  been  tempted  to  commit  suicide  ;  but  a  sort  of  womanly 
curiosity  and  stubbornness  has  prevented  me.  I  wished  to 
see  how  long  Fortune  would  persecute  me,  and  I  was  deter- 
mined not  to  thwart  her  plans  by  putting  myself  beyond  their 
reach.     I  did  not  liVe  to  give  in,  for  any  one  who  tries  t* 


SAILOR  BILL'S  BROTHER.  253 

escape  from  trouble  by  killing  himself,  shows  that  he  has 
come  off  sadly  worsted  in  the  war  of  life." 

"You  are  quite  rij^ht,"  said  Harry  Blount;  but  I  hope 
that  your  hardest  bat/les  in  that  war  are  now  over.  Our 
masters  have  promised  to  carry  us  to  some  place  where  we 
may  be  ransomed  by  our  countrymen,  and  you  of  course  will 
be  taken  along  with  us." 

"  Do  not  flatter  yourselves  with  that  hope,"  said  Jim.  "  1 
was  amused  with  it  for  several  years.  Every  master  I  have 
had  gave  me  the  same  promise,  and  here  I  am  yet.  I  did 
think  when  my  late  owners  were  saving  the  stones  from  the 
wreck,  that  I  could  get  them  to  enter  the  walls  of  some  seaport 
town,  and  that  possibly  they  might  take  me  along  with  them. 
But  that  hope  has  proved  as  delusive  as  all  others  I  have 
entertained  since  shipwrecked  on  the  shore  of  this  accu'sed 
country.  I  believe  there  are  a  few  who  are  fortunate  enough 
to  regain  their  liberty  ;  but  the  majority  of  sailors  cast  away 
on  the  Saiiran  coast  never  have  the  good  fortune  to  get 
away  from  it.  They  die  under  the  hardships  and  ill-treat- 
ment to  which  they  are  exposed  upon  the  desert  —  without 
leaving  a  trace  of  their  existence  any  more  than  the  dogs  or 
camels  belonging  to  their  common  masters. 

"  You  have  asked  me  to  give  an  account  of  my  life  since  1 
have  been  shipwrecked.  I  cannot  do  that ;  but  I  shall  give 
you  an  easy  rule  by  which  you  may  know  all  about  it.  We 
will  suppose  you  have  all  been  three  months  in  the  Saara, 
and  Bill  here  says  that  I  have  been  here  ten  years ;  there- 
fore I  have  experienced  about  forty  times  as  long  a  period  of 
slavery  as  one  of  yourselves.  Now,  multiply  the  sum  total 
of  your  sufferings  by  forty,  and  you  will  have  some  idea  of 
what  I  have  undergone. 

'*  You  have  probably  witnessed  some  scenes  of  heartless 
cruelty  —  scenes  that  shocked  and  wounded  the  most  sensi- 
tive feelings  of  your  nature.  I  have  witnessed  forty  timeJ 
as  many.     While  suffering  the  agonies  of  thirst  and  hunger, 


254  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

you  may  have  prayed  for  death  as  a  relief  to  youi  anguish. 
Where  such  have  been  your  circumstances  once,  they  have 
been  mine  for  forty  times, 

^'  You  may  have  had  some  bright  hopes  of  escaping,  and 
once  more  revisiting  your  native  hmd  ;  and  then  have  expe- 
rienced the  bitterness  of  disappointment.  In  this  way  I 
have  suffered  forty  times  as  much  as  any  one  of  you." 

Sailor  Bill  and  the  young  gentlemen,  —  who  had  been  for 
several  days  under  tlie  pheasant  hallucination  that  they  were 
on  the  high  road  to  freedom,  —  were  again  awakened  to  a 
true  sense  of  their  situation  by  the  words  of  a  man  far  more 
experienced  than  they  in  the  deceitful  ways  of  the  desert. 

Before  separating  for  the  night,  the  three  raids  learnt  from 
Bill  and  his  brother  that  the  latter  had  been  first  officer  of 
the  ship  that  had  brought  him  to  the  coast.  They  could 
perceive  by  his  conversation  that  he  was  an  intelligent  man, 
—  one  whose  natural  abilities  and  artificial  acquirementa 
were  far  superior  to  those  of  their  shipmate,  —  the  old  man- 
of-war's-man. 

"  If  such  an  accomplished  individual,"  reasoned  they,  "  has 
been  for  ten  years  a  slave  in  the  Saara,  umvble  to  escape  or 
reach  any  place  where  his  liberty  might  be  restored,  wha*. 
hope  is  there  for  us  ?  " 


CHAPTER    LXVII. 


LIVING    STREAM. 


EVERY  hour  of  the  journey  presented  some  addirional 
evidence  that  the  kafila  was  leaving  the  great  desert 
behind,  and  di-awing  near  a  land  that  might  be  considered 
fertile. 


A  LIVING  STREAM.  255 

On  the  d/iy  after  parting  from  the  wreckers  a  walled  town 
was  reached,  and  near  it,  on  the  sides  of  some  of  the  liillf, 
were  seen  growing  a  few  patches  of  barley. 

At  this  place  the  caravan  rested  for  the  remainder  of  the 
day.  The  camels  and  horses  were  furnished  with  a  good 
Bupply  of  food,  and  water  drawn  from  deejj  wells.  It  was 
the  best  our  adventurers  had  drunk  since  being  cast  away  on 
the  African  coast. 

Next  morning  the  journey  was  continued. 

After  they  had  been  on  the  road  about  two  hours,  the  old 
sheik  and  a  companion,  riding  in  advance  of  the  othere, 
stopped  before  what  seemed,  in  the  distance,  a  broad  stream 
of  water. 

All  hastened  forward,  and  the  Boy  Slaves  beheld  a  sight 
that  filled  them  with  much  surprise  and  considerable  alarm. 
It  was  a  stream,  —  a  stream  of  living  creatures  moving  over 
the  plain. 

It  was  a  migration  of  insects, — the  famed  locusts  of 
Africa. 

They  were  young  ones,  —  not  yet  able  to  fly ;  and  for 
Bome  reason,  unknown  perhaps  even  to  themselves,  they 
were  taking  this  grand  journey. 

Their  march  seemed  conducted  in  regular  order,  and  un- 
der strict  discipline. 

They  formed  a  living  moving  belt  of  considerable  breadth, 
the  sides  of  which  appeared  as  straight  as  any  hne  mathe 
jnatical  science  could  have  drawn. 

Not  one  could  be  seen  straggling  from  the  main  body, 
wliich  was  moving  along  a  track  too  narrow  for  their  num- 
bers,—  scarce  half  of  them  having  room  on  the  sand,  while 
Ihe  other  half  were  crawling  along  on  the  backs  of  their 
eonipagnons  du  voyage. 

Even  the  Arabs  appeared  interested  in  this  African  my»- 
iery,  and  paused  for  a  few  minutes  to  watch  the  progress 
of  the  glittering  stream  presented  by  these  singular  insect* 


256  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

The  old  shf'ik  dismounted  from  his  camel ;  an  I  with  his 
gcimitar  broke  the  straight  line  formed  by  the  border  of  the 
moving  mass  —  sweeping  them  off  to  one  side. 

The  space  was  instantly  filled  up  again  by  those  advancing 
from  behind,  and  tlie  straight  edge  restored,  the  insects 
crawling  onward  without  the  slightest  deviation. 

The  sight  was  not  new  to  Sailor  Bill's  brother.  He  in- 
formed his  companions  that  should  a  fire  be  kindled  on  their 
line  of  march,  the  insects,  instead  of  attempting  to  pass 
around  it,  would  move  right  into  its  midst  until  it  should  be- 
come extinguished  with  their  dead  bodies. 

After  amusing  himself  for  a  few  moments  in  observing 
these  insects,  the  sheik  mounted  his  camel,  and,  followed  by 
the  kafila,  commenced  moving  through  the  living  stream. 

A  hoof  could  not  be  put  down  without  crushing  a  score 
of  the  creatures ;  but  immediately  on  the  hoof  being  lifted, 
the  space  was  filled  with  as  many  as  had  been  destroyed ! 

Some  of  the  slaves,  with  their  naked  feet,  did  not  like 
wading  through  this  living  crawling  stream.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  use  force  to  compel  them  to  pass  over  it. 

After  looking  right  and  left,  and  seeing  no  end  to  the 
colunm  of  insects,  our  adventurers  made  a  rush,  and  ran 
clear  across  it. 

At  every  step  their  feet  fell  with  a  crunching  sound,  and 
were  raissd  again,  streaming  with  the  blood  of  the  mangled 
locusts. 

The  belt  of  the  migratory  insects  was  about  sixty  yards 
in  breadth  ;  yet,  short  as  was  the  distance,  the  Boy  Slaves 
declared  that  it  was  more  disagreeable  to  pass  over  than  any 
ten  miles  of  the  desert  they  had  previously  traversed. 

One  of  the  blacks,  determined  to  make  the  crossing  as 
brief  as  possible,  started  in  a  rapid  run.  When  about  half 
way  through,  his  foot  slipped,  and  he  fell  full  length  amidst 
liie  crowd  of  creep(n'S. 

Before  he  could  regain  his  feet,  hundreds  of  the  disgust 


A  LIVING  STREAM.  257 

uig  iuoccts  had  mounted  upon  him,  clinging  to  his  clothes, 
and  almost  smothering  him  by  their  numbers. 

Overcome  by  disgust,  horror,  and  fear,  he  was  unable  to 
rise ;  and  two  of  his  black  companions  were  ordered  to  drag 
him  out  of  the  disagreeable  company  into  which  he  had 
stumbled. 

After  being  rescued  and  delivered  from  the  clutch  of  the 
locusts,  it  was  many  minutes  before  he  recovered  his  com- 
posure of  mind,  along  with  sufficient  nerve  to  resume  his 
joumey. 

Sailor  Bill  had  not  made  the  crossing  along  with  the 
others ;  and  for  some  time  resisted  all  the  attempts  of  the 
Ai-abs  to  force  him  over  the  insect  stream. 

Two  of  them  at  length  laid  hold  of  him  ;  and,  after  drag- 
ging him  some  paces  into  the  crawling  crowd,  left  him  to 
himself. 

Being  thus  brought  in  actual  contact  with  the  insects,  the 
old  sailor  savi^  that  the  quickest  way  of  getting  out  of  the 
3crape  was  to  cross  over  to  the  other  side. 

This  he  proceeded  to  do  in  the  least  time,  and  with  the 
greatest  possible  noise.  His  paces  were  long,  and  made 
with  wonderful  rapidity ;  and  each  time  his  foot  came  to 
the  ground,  he  uttered  a  horrible  yell,  as  though  it  had  been 
planted  upon  a  sheet  of  red-hot  iron. 

Bill's  brother  had  now  so  far  recovered  from  his  feigned 
illness,  that  he  was  able  to  walk  along  with  the  Boy  Slaves. 

Naturally  conversing  about  the  locusts,  he  informed  his 
companions,  that  the  year  before  he  had  been  upon  a  part 
of  the  Saiiran  coast  where  a  cloud  of  these  insects  had  been 
driven  out  to  sea  by  a  storm,  and  drowned.  Thay  were 
afterwards  washed  ashore  in  heaps  ;  the  effluvia  from  which 
became  so  offensive  that  the  fields  of  barley  near  the  shore 
could  not  be  harvested,  and  many  hundred  acres  of  the  crop 
rere  wholly  lost  to  the  owners 


258  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER     LXVIII. 

THE    ARABS    AT    HOME. 

^OON  after  encountering  the  locusts,  the  kafilu  cam€ 
upon  a  well-beaten  road,  running  through  a  fertile 
country,  where  hundreds  of  acres  of  barley  could  be  seen 
growing  ou  both  sides. 

That  evening,  for  some  reason  unknown  to  the  slaves, 
their  masters  did  not  halt  at  the  usual  hour.  They  saw 
many  walled  villages,  where  dwelt  the  proprietors  of  the 
barley  fields ;  but  hurried  past  them  without  stopping  either 
for  water  or  food  —  although  their  slaves  were  sadly  in  need 
of  both. 

In  vain  the  latter  complained  of  thirst,  and  begged  for 
water.  The  only  reply  to  their  entreaties  was  a  harsh  com- 
mand to  move  on  faster,  frequently  followed  by  a  blow. 

Towards  midnight,  when  the  hopes  and  strength  of  all 
were  nearly  exhausted,  the  kafila  arrived  at  a  walled  village, 
where  a  gate  was  opened  to  admit  his  slaves.  The  old  sheik 
then  informed  them  that  they  should  have  plenty  of  food 
and  drink,  and  would  be  allowed  to  rest  for  two  or  three 
days  in  the  village. 

A  quantity  of  water  was  then  thickened  with  barley  meal ; 
and  of  this  diet  they  were  permitted  to  have  as  much  as 
they  could  consume. 

It  was  after  night  when  they  entered  the  gate  of  the  vil- 
lage, and  nothing  could  be  seen.  Next  morning  they  found 
themselves  in  the  centre  of  a  square  enclosure  surrounded 
by  about  twenty  houses,  standing  within  a  high  wall.  Flocks 
of  sheep  and  goats,  with  a  number  of  horses,  camels,  and 
donkeys,  wei-e  also  within  the  inclosure. 

Jim  informed  his  companions  that  most  of  the  Saaran 
Arabs  have  fixed  habitations,  where  they  dwell  the  greaiet 


THE  ARABS  AT  HOME.  2/58 

parf  of  the  year,  —  generally  walled  to\vn&.  such  na  the  one 
they  had  now  entered. 

The  wall  is  intended  for  a  protection  against  robbers,  at 
the  same  time  that  it  serves  as  a  pen  to  keep  their  flocks 
from  straying  or  trespassing  on  the  cultivated  fields  during 
the  night  time. 

It  was  soon  discovered  that  the  Arabs  had  arrived  at 
their  home  ;  for  as  soon  as  day  broke,  they  were  seen  in 
company  with  their  wives  and  families.  This  accounted  for 
their  not  making  halt  at  any  of  the  other  villages.  Being 
60  near  their  own,  they  had  made  an  effort  to  reach  it  with- 
out extending  their  journey  into  another  day. 

"  I  fear  we  are  in  the  hands  of  the  wrong  masters  for 
obtaining  our  freedom,"  said  Jim  to  his  companions.  "  If 
they  were  traders,  they  might  take  us  farther  north  and  sell 
us  ;  but  it 's  clear  they  are  not !  They  are  graziers,  farm- 
ers, and  robbers,  when  the  chance  arises,  —  that 's  what  they 
be !  While  waiting  for  their  barley  to  ripen,  they  have 
been  on  a  raiding  expedition  to  the  desert,  in  tlie  hope  of  cap- 
turing a  few  slaves,  to  assist  them  in  reaping  their  harvest." 

Jim's  conjecture  was  soon  after  found  to  be  correct.  On 
the  old  sheik  being  asked  when  he  intended  taking  hia 
slaves  on  to  Swearah,  he  answered :  — 

"  Our  barley  is  now  ripe,  and  we  must  not  leave  it  to  spoil 
You  must  help  us  in  the  harvest,  and  that  will  enable  us  to 
g:)  to  Swearah  all  the  sooner." 

•'  Do  you  leally  intend  to  take  your  slaves  to  Swearah  ? " 
asked  the  Krooman. 

"  Certainly ! "  rep-led  the  ^^hcik.  Have  we  i.ot  promised? 
But  we  cannot  leave  our  fields  now.  Bismilla  i !  our  grain 
must  be  gathered." 

''  it  is  just  as  I  supposed,"  said  Jim.  "  They  will  promise 
anything.  They  do  not  intend  taking  us  to  Mogador  at  alL 
The  same  promise  has  been  ma  le  to  me  by  the  same  sort 
©f  people  a  score  of  times." 


260  TUE  BOY  SLAVES. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?  "  asked  Terence. 

"  We  must  do  nothing,"  answered  Jim,  "  We  must  not 
assist  them  in  any  way,  for  the  more  luseful  Ave  are  to  them 
the  more  reluctant  they  will  be  to  part  with  us.  I  sliould 
Lave  obtained  my  liberty  yeai-s  ago,  had  I  net  tried  to  gain 
the  good-will  of  my  Arab  master.-;,  by  trying  to  make  myself 
useful  to  them.  That  war  a  mistake,  and  I  can  see  it  now. 
We  must  not  give  them  the  slightest  assistance  in  their  bai- 
ley-cutting." 

"But  they  will  compel  us  to  help  them?"  suggested 
Colin. 

"  They  cannot  do  that  if  we  remain  resolute ;  and  I  tell 
you  all  that  you  had  better  be  killed  at  once  than  submit. 
If  we  assist  in  their  harvest,  they  will  find  something  else 
for  us  to  do,  and  your  best  days,  as  mine  have  been,  will  be 
passed  in  slavery  !  Each  of  you  must  make  himself  a  burden 
and  expense  to  whoever  owns  him,  and  then  we  may  be 
passed  over  to  some  trader  who  has  been  to  Mogador,  and 
knows  that  he  can  make  money  by  taking  us  there  to  be  re- 
deemed. That  is  our  only  chance.  These  Arabs  don't  know 
that  we  are  sure  to  be  purcliased  for  a  good  price  in  any 
large  seaport  town,  and  they  will  not  run  any  risk  in  taking 
us  there.  Furthermore,  these  men  are  outlaws,  desert  rob- 
bers, and  I  don't  believe  that  they  dare  enter  the  Moorish 
dominions.  We  must  get  transferred  to  other  hands,  and  the 
only  way  to  do  that  is  to  refuse  work." 

Our  adventurers  agreed  to  be  guided  by  Jim's  counsels, 
although  confident  that  they  would  experience  much  diffi- 
culty in  following  them. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  the  second  day  after  the  Araba 
reached  their  home,  all  the  slaves,  both  white  and  black, 
were  roused  from  their  slumbers ;  and  after  a  spare  break- 
fast of  barley-gruel,  were  commanded  to  follow  their  mas- 
ters to  the  grain  fields,  outside  the  walls  of  tlie  town. 

"  Do  you  want  us  to  work  ?  "  asked  Jim,  addi-essing  him 
self  directly  to  the  old  sheik. 


THE  ARABS  AT   HOME.  261 

•  Bisiiiillah  !  Yes  !  "  exclaimed  the  Arab.  "  We  have 
kept  fou  too  long  in  idleness.  What  have  you  done,  or 
who  a;'e  you,  that  we  should  maintain  you  ?  You  must 
work  foi  your  living,  as  we  do  ourselves  !  " 

"  We  cannot  do  anything  on  land,"  said  Jim.  "  We  are 
sailors,  and  ha  /e  only  learnt  to  work  on  board  a  ship." 

"  By  Allah,  you  will  soon  learn  !  Come,  follow  us  to  the 
barley  fields !  " 

"  No  ;  we  have  all  agreed  to  die  rather  than  work  for  you ! 
You  promised  to  ttxke  us  to  Swearah ;  and  we  will  go  there 
or  die.     We  will  not  be  slaves  any  longer  ! " 

Most  of  the  Arabs,  with  their  wives  and  children,  had 
now  assembled  around  the  white  men,  who  were  ordered  in- 
stantly to  move  on. 

"  It  will  not  do  for  us  to  say  we  will  not  or  can't  move 
on,"  said  Jim,  speaking  to  his  companions  in  English.  "  We 
must  go  to  the  field.  They  can  make  us  do  that ;  but  they 
can't  make  us  work.  Go  quietly  to  the  field ;  but  don't 
make  yourselves  useful  when  you  get  there." 

This  advice  was  followed  ;  and  the  Boy  Slaves  soon  found 
themselves  by  the  side  of  a  large  patch  of  barley,  ready  for 
the  reaping-hook.  A  sickle  of  French  manufacture  was 
then  placed  in  the  hands  of  each,  and  they  were  instructed 
how  to  use  them. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Jim.  "  Go  to  work  with  a  will, 
mates !  We  '11  show  them  a  specimen  of  how  reaping  ia 
done  aboard  ship  ! " 

Jim  proceeded  to  set  an  example  by  cutting  the  grain  in 
a  careless  manner  —  letting  the  heads  fall  in  every  direction, 
and  then  trampling  them  under  foot  as  he  moved  on. 

The  same  plan  was  pursued  by  his  brother  Bill,  the  Kroo- 
man,  and  Harry  Blount. 

In  the  first  attempt  to  use  the  sickle,  Terence  was  so 
ftW^kward  as  to  fall  forward  and  break  tW  imxlement  into 
two  pieces. 


262  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

Colin  behaved  no  better :  since  he  managed  to  cut  one  of 
his  fingers,  and  then  apparently  fainted  away  at  the  sight  of 
the  blood. 

The  forenoon  was  passed  by  the  Arabs  in  trying  to  train 
their  slaves  to  the  work,  but  in  this  they  were  sadly  unsuc- 
cessful. 

Curses,  threats,  and  blows  were  expended  upon  them  to 
no  purpose,  for  the  Christian  dogs  seemed  only  capable  of 
doing  much  harm  and  no  good.  During  the  afternoon  they 
were  allowed  to  lie  idle  upon  the  ground,  and  watch  their 
masters  cutting  the  barley ;  although  this  indulgence  waa 
purchased  at  the  expense  of  lacerated  skins  and  aching 
bones.  Nor  was  this  triumph  without  the  cost  of  further 
suffering :  for  they  were  not  allowed  a  mouthful  of  food  or 
a  drop  of  water,  although  an  abundance  of  both  had  been 
distributed  to  the  other  laborers  in  the  field. 

All  five,  however,  remained  obstinate ;  withstanding  hun- 
ger and  thirst,  threats,  cui'sings,  and  stripes,  —  each  one 
disdaining  to  be  the  first  to  yield  to  the  wishes  of  their  Arab 
masters. 


CHAPTER  LXIX. 

WORK    OR   DIE. 

THAT  night,  after  being  driven  within  the  walls  of  the 
town,  the  w'liite  slaves,  along  with  their  guard  and  the 
Krooman,  were  fastened  in  a  large  stone  building  partly  in 
ruins,  that  had  been  recently  used  as  %  goat-pen. 

They  were  not  allowed  a  mouthful  of  food  nor  a  drop  of 
water,  and  sentinels  walked  around  all  night  to  prevent  them 
from  breaking  out  of  their  prison. 

No  longer  targets  for  the  beams  of  a  blazing  sun,  they 


WORK   CR  DIF.  26fl 

were  partly  relieved  from  tlieir  sufferings  ;  but  a  .ew  band 
fuls  of  barley  tbej-  had  managed  to  secrete  a  Jd  bring  in  from 
the  field,  proved  only  sufficient  to  sharpen  an  appetite  wliich 
they  could  devise  no  means  of  appeasing. 

A  ragijig  thirst  prevented  them  from  having  much  sleep ; 
and,  on  being  turned  out  next  morning,  and  ordered  back  to 
the  barley  fields,  weak  with  liunger  and  want  of  sleep,  they 
were  strongly  tempted  to  yield  obedience  to  their  masters. 

The  black  slaves  had  worked  well  the  day  before ;  and, 
having  satisfied  their  masters,  had  received  plenty  of  food 
and  drink. 

Their  white  companions  in  misery  saw  them  eating  their 
breakfast  before  being  ordered  to  the  field. 

"  Jim,"  said  Sailor  Bill,  "  I  've  'alf  a  mind  to  give  in.  I 
must  'ave  somethin'  to  heat  an'  drink.  I  'm  starvin'  all 
over." 

''  Don't  think  of  it,  William,"  said  his  brother.  "  Unless 
you  wish  to  remain  for  years  in  slavery,  as  I  have  done,  you 
must  not  yield.  Our  only  hope  of  obtahiing  liberty  is  to 
give  tlie  Arabs  but  one  chance  of  making  anything  by  us, — 
tlie  chance  of  selling  us  to  our  countrymen.  They  won't  let 
us  die,  —  don't  think  it !  We  are  worth  too  much  for  that. 
They  will  try  to  make  us  work  if  they  can  ;  but  we  are  fools 
if  we  let  them  succeed." 

Again  being  driven  to  the  field,  another  attempt  was  made 
by  the  Arabs  to  get  some  service  out  of  them. 

"  We  can  do  nothing  now,"  said  Jim  to  the  old  sheik ; 
"  we  are  dying  with  hunger  and  thirst.  Our  life  has  always 
been  on  the  sea,  and  we  can  do  nothing  on  land." 

"  There  is  plenty  of  food  for  those  who  earn  it,"  rejoined 
the  sheik ;  "  and  we  cannot  give  those  food  who  do  not  de- 
serve it." 

"  Then  give  us  some  water." 

"  Allah  forbid  I  We  are  not  your  servants  to  carry  water 
for  you  " 


264  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

All  attempts  to  make  the  white  slaves  perforin  t^i:.i  tasi 
having  failed,  they  were  ordered  to  sit  down  in  the  hot  sun, 
where  they  were  tantalized  with  the  sight  of  the  food  and 
water  of  which  they  were  not  permitted  to  taste. 

During  the  forenoon  of  the  day,  all  the  eloquence  Jim 
could  command  was  required  to  prevent  his  brother  from 
yielding.  The  old  man-o'-war's-raan  was  tortured  by  ex- 
treme thirst,  and  was  once  or  twice  on  the  eve  of  selling 
himself  in  exchange  for  a  cooling  draught. 

Long  years  of  suffering  on  the  desert  had  inured  Jim  tc 
its  hardships ;  and  not  so  strongly  tempted  as  the  others,  it 
was  easier  for  him  to  remain  firm. 

Since  falling  into  the  company  of  his  countrymen,  his 
hope  of  freedom  had  revived,  and  he  was  determined  to 
make  a  grand  effort  to  regain  it. 

He  knew  that  five  wliite  captives  were  worth  the  trouble 
of  taking  to  some  seaport  frequented  by  English  ships ;  and 
he  believed,  if  they  refrained  from  making  themselves  use- 
ful, there  was  a  prospect  of  their  being  thus  disposed  of. 

Through  his  influence,  therefore,  the  refractory  slaves 
remained  stanch  in  their  resolution  to  abstain  from 
work. 

Their  masters  now  saw  that  they  were  better  off  in  the 
field  than  in  the  prison.  They  could  not  be  prevented  from 
obtaining  a  few  heads  of  the  barley,  which  they  greedily  ate, 
nor  from  obtaining  a  little  moisture  by  chewing  the  roots  of 
the  weeds  growing  around  them. 

As  soon  as  this  wn^  noticed,  two  of  the  Ai'^os  were  Bent 
to  conduct  them  back  to  the  place  where  they  had  been  con- 
fined on  the  night  before. 

It  was  with  the  utmost  exertion  that  Sailor  Bill  and  Colin 
were  able  to  reach  the  town ;  while  the  others,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Jim,  were  in  a  very  weak  and  exhausted  state 
Hunger  and  thirst  were  fast  subduing  them  —  in  body,  i/ 
not  in  spirit. 


WORK  OR  DIE.  265 

On.  reaching  the  door  of  the  goat-pen,  they  refused  to  go 
in,  all  clamoring  loudly  for  food  and  water. 

Their  entreaties  were  met  with  the  declaration:  that  it 
was  tlie  will  of  God  that  those  who  would  not  work  should 
Buffer  starvation. 

"  Idleness,"  argued  their  masters,  "  is  always  punished  by 
ill-health  "  ;  and  they  wound  up  by  expressing  their  thauka 
that  such  was  the  case. 

It  was  not  until  the  two  Arabs  had  obtained  the  assist- 
ance of  several  of  the  women  and  boys  of  the  village  that 
they  succeeded  in  getting  the  white  slaves  within  the  goat- 
pen. 

"  Jim,  I  tell  you  I  can't  stand  this  any  longer,"  said  Sailor 
Bill.  "  Call  an'  say  to  'em  as  I  gives  in,  and  will  work  to- 
morrow, if  they  will  let  me  have  water." 

"And  so  will  I,"  said  Terence.  "There  is  nothing  in  the 
future  to  compensate  for  this  suffering,  and  I  can  endure  it 
no  longer." 

"  Nor  will  I,"  exclaimed  Harry ;  "  I  must  have  something 
to  eat  and  drink  ioimediately.  We  shall  all  be  punished  in 
the  next  world  ^br  self-murder  in  this  unless  we  yield. 

"  Courage  !  patience  ! "  exclaimed  Jim.  "  It  is  better  to 
Buffer  for  a  ^"-ew  hours  more  than  to  remain  all  our  lives  in 
slavery." 

"  What  do  I  care  for  the  future  ? "  muttered  Terence  . 
'*  the  present  is  everything.  He  is  a  fool  who  kills  himself 
to-day  to  keep  from  being  hungry  ten  years  after.  I  wl'l 
tiy  to  work  to-morrow,  if  I  live  so  long." 

"  Yes,  call  an'  tell  'em,  Jem,  as  'ow  we  gives  in.  an'  they 
11  send  us  some  refreslnnent,"  entreated  the  old  sailor.  "  It 
ain't  in  human  natur  to  die  of  starvation  if  one  can  'elp  it." 

But  neither  Jim  nor  the  Krooman  would  communicate  to 
the  Arabs  the  wishes  of  their  companions ;  and  the  words 
and  signals  the  old  sailor   made   to  attract   the  attention  oil 
those  outside  were  unheeded. 
12 


260  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Early  in  the  evening,  both  Colin  and  the  Krooman  alse 
exiiresBed  themselves  williiig  to  sacrifice  the  future  for  tha 
present. 

"  We  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  future,"  said  Colin  ;  in 
answer  to  Jim's  entreaties  that  they  should  remain  firm. 
"  The  future  is  the  care  of  God,  and  we  are  only  concerned 
with  the  present.  We  ought  to  promise  anything  if  we  can 
obtain  food  by  it." 

"  I  tink  so  too  now,"  said  the  Krooman ;  "  for  it  am  worse 
than  sure  dat  if  we  starve  now  we  no  be  slaves  bom  by." 

"  They  will  not  quite  starve  us  to  death,"  said  Jim.  "  I 
have  told  you  before  that  we  are  worth  too  much  for  that. 
If  we  will  not  work  they  will  sell  us,  and  we  may  reach 
Mogador.  If  we  do  work,  we  may  stay  here  for  years.  I 
entreat  you  to  hold  out  one  day  longer." 

"  I  cannot,"  answered  one. 

*'Nor  I"  exclaimed  another. 

"  Let  us  hrst  get  something  to  eat,  and  then  take  our  lib- 
erty by  force,"  said  Terence,  "  I  fancy  that  if  I  had  a  drink 
of  water,  I  could  wliip  all  the  Arabs  on  earth." 

"  And  so  could  I,"  said  Colin. 

"  And  I,  too,"  added  Harry  Blount. 

Sailor  Bill  had  sunk  upon  the  floor,  hardly  conscious  of 
what  the  others  were  saying ;  but,  partly  aroused  by  the 
word  water,  repeated  it,  mattering,  in  a  hoarse  whisper, 
"Water!  Water!" 

The  Krooman  and  tlie  three  youths  joined  in  the  cry  j 
and  then  all,  as  loudly  as  their  parched  throats  would  per- 
mit, shouted  the  word,  "  Water  !  Water !  " 

The  call  for  water  was  apparently  unheeded  by  the  Arab 
men,  but  it  was  evidently  music  to  many  of  the  children  of 
the  village,  for  it  attracted  them  to  the  door  of  the  goat- 
pen,  around  which  they  clustered,  hsteuing  with  strong  ex- 
pressions oi'  delight. 

Through  a  long  night  of  indescribable  agony,  the  cry  y 


VICTORY  !  267 

"Water!  "Water !"  was  often  repeated  in  the  per,  and  at 
each  time  in  tones  fainter  and  more  supphcating  than  be- 
fore. 

The  cry  at  length  became  changed  from  a  demand  to  a 
piteous  prajor. 


CHAPTER    LXX. 

victokt! 

NEXT  morning,  when  the  Arabs  opened  the  door  of 
the  prison,  Sailor  Bill  and  Colin  were  found  unable 
to  rise ;  and  the  old  salt  seemed  quite  unconscious  of  aU 
efforts  made  to  awaken  his  attention. 

Not  till  then  did  Jim's  resolution  begin  to  give  way.  He 
would  now  submit  to  save  them  from  further  suffering ;  but 
although  knowing  it  was  the  wish  of  all  that  he  ^-hould  ten- 
der their  submission  on  the  terms  the  Arabs  required,  for  a 
while  he  delayed  doing  so,  in  order  to  discover  the  course 
their  masters  designed  adopting  towards  them. 

"Are  you  Christian  dogs  willing  to  earn  your  food  now  ?  " 
Inquired  the  old  sheik,  as  he  entered  the  goat-pen. 

Faint  and  weak  with  hunger,  nearly  mad  with  thirst, 
alarmed  for  the  condition  of  his  brother,  and  pitying  the  ago- 
ny of  the  others,  Jim  was  about  to  answer  tlie  sheik's  ques- 
tion in  the  affirmative ;  but  there  was  something  in  the  tone 
in  which  the  question  had  been  put,  that  determined  him  to 
refrain  for  a  little  longer. 

The  earthly  happiness  of  six  men  might  depend  upon  the 
next  word  he  should  utter,  and  that  word  he  should  not 
speak  without  some  deliberation. 

With  an  intellect  sharpened  by  torture,  Jim  turned  his 


268  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

gaze  from  the  old  sheik  upon  several  other  Arabs  that  had 
come  near. 

He  could  see  that  they  had  arrived  at  some  decision 
amongst  themselves,  as  to  what  they  should  do,  and  Ihiit 
tliey  did  not  seem  much  interested  in  the  ultimatum  de- 
manded by  the  sheik's  inquiry. 

This  lack  of  excitement  or  interest  did  not  look  like  fur- 
ther starvation  and  death  ;  and  in  place  of  telling  the  Arabs 
that  they  were  willing  to  submit,  Jim  informed  the  old  sheik 
that  all  were  determined  to  die  rather  than  remain  slaves. 

"  There  is  not  one  of  us  that  wishes  to  live,"  he  added, 
"except  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  our  native  land  again. 
Our  bodies  are  now  weak,  but  our  spirits  are  still  strong- 
We  will  die  ! " 

On  receiving  this  answer,  the  Arabs  (departed,  leaving  the 
Christians  in  the  pen. 

The  Krooman,  who  had  been  listening  during  the  inter- 
Tiew,  then  faintly  called  after  them  to  return ;  but  he  was 
Btopped  by  Jim,  who  still  entertained  the  hope  that  his  firm- 
ness would  yet  be  rewarded. 

Half  an  hour  passed,  and  Jim  began  to  doubt  again.  He 
might  not  have  correctly  interpreted  the  expressions  he  had 
noted  upon  the  faces  of  the  Arabs. 

"  What  did  you  tell  them  ?  "  muttered  Terence.  "  Did 
you  tell  them  that  we  were  willing  to  work,  if  they  would 
give  us  v/ater  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  certainly  !  "  answered  Jim,  now  beginning  to 
regret  that  he  had  not  tendered  their  submission  before  it 
mijrht  be  too  late. 

"  Then  why  do  they  not  come  and  relieve  us  ? "  asked 
Terence,  in  a  whisper  —  hoarse  from  despair. 

Jim  vouchsafed  no  answer  ;  and  the  Krooman  seemed  in 
too  much  mental  and  bodily  anguish  to  heed  what  had  been 
said. 

Shortly  after,  Jim  could  hear  the  flocks  being  driven  oul 


VICTOR  r !  263 

of  the  town ;  and  looking  through  a  small  opening  m  th« 
wall  of  the  pen,  he  could  see  some  of  the  Arabs  going  out 
towards  the  barley  fields. 

Could  it  be  that  he  had  been  mistaken  —  that  the  Araba 
were  going  to  apply  the  screw  of  stai-vation  for  another 
day  ?  Alarmed  by  this  conjecture,  he  strove  to  hail  them, 
and  bring  them  back  ;  but  the  effort  only  resulted  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

"  May  God  forgive  me  ! "  thought  he.  "  My  brother,  a& 
well  as  all  the  others,  will  die  before  night !  I  have  mur- 
dered them,  and  perhaps  myself !  " 

Driven  frantic  with  the  thought,  frenzy  furnished  him 
with  the  will  and  ,-trength  to  speak  out. 

His  voice  could  noM  be  heard,  for  the  walls  of  the  stono 
building  rang  with  the  shouts  of  a  madman  ! 

He  assailed  the  door  with  such  force  that  the  structm-e 
gave  way,  and  Jim  rushed  out,  prepared  to  make  any  pro- 
mises or  terms  with  their  masters,  to  save  the  lives  he  had 
e^idangered  by  his  obstinacy. 

His  submission  was  not  required :  for  on  looking  out,  two 
men  and  three  or  four  boys  were  seen  coming  towards  the 
pen,  bearing  bowls  of  water,  and  dishes  filled  with  barley- 
gruel. 

Jim  had  conquered  in  tie  strife  between  master  and  man. 
The  old  sheik  had  given  orders  for  the  white  slaves  to  be  fed. 
Jim's  frenzy  immediately  subsided  into  an  excitement  of 
a  different  nature. 

Seizing  a  calabash  of  water,  he  ran  to  his  brother  Bill ; 
and  raising  him  into  a  sitting  posture,  he  apphed  the  vessel 
to  the  man-o'-war's-man's  lips. 

Bill  had  not  strength  even  to  di-ink,  and  the  water  had  to 
be  poured  down  his  throat. 

Not  until  all  of  his  companions  had  drunk,  and  swallowed 
a  few  mouthfuls  of  tlie  barley-gruel,  did  Jim  himself  partake 
of  anj  thing. 


270  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

The  effect  of  food  and  water  in  restoring  tlie  energies  of 
a  starving  man  is  almost  miraculous ;  and  he  now  congratu 
lated  his  companions  on  the  success  of  his  scheme. 

"  It  is  all  right  I "  he  exclaimed.  "  We  have  conquered 
them  !  We  sludl  not  have  to  reap  their  harvest !  We  shall 
be  fed,  fattened,  and  sold ;  and  perhaps  be  taken  to  Mog». 
dor.  We  should  thauk  God  for  bringing  us  all  safely 
through  the  trial.  Had  we  yielded,  there  would  have  been 
no  hope  of  ever  regaining  our  liberty  \ " 


CHAPTER    LXXI. 

SOLD    AGAIN. 

TWO  days  elapsed,  during  which  time  our  adventurera 
were  served  with  barley-gruel  twice  a  day.  They 
were  allowed  a  suflicient  quantity  of  water,  with  only  the 
trouble  of  bringing  it  from  the  well,  and  enduring  a  good 
deal  of  insult  and  abuse  from  the  women  and  children  whom 
they  chanced  to  meet  on  their  way. 

The  second  Krooman,  who,  in  a  moment  of  weakness 
inspired  by  the  torture  of  thirst,  had  assisted  the  other 
slaves  at  their  task,  now  tried  in  vain  to  get  off  from  work- 
ing. He  came  each  evening  to  the  pen  to  converse  with 
his  countryman  ;  and  at  these  meetings  bitterly  expressed 
his  regret  that  he  had  submitted. 

There  was  no  hope  for  him  now,  for  he  had  given  proof 
that  he  could  be  made  useful  t:)  his  owners. 

On  the  evening  of  the  second  day  after  they  had  been 
relieved  from  starvation,  the  white  slaves  were  visited  in 
their  place  of  confinement  by  three  Arabs  they  had  noi 
before  seen. 


SOLD  AGAIN.  2''l 

These  were  well-armed,  well-dressed,  fine-looking  fellows, 
having  altogether  a  more  respectable  appearance  than  any 
inhabitants  of  the  desert  they  had  yet  encountered. 

Jim  immediately  entered  into  conversation  with  them  -, 
and  learned  that  they  were  merchants,  travelling  with  a 
caravan ;  and  that  they  had  claimed  the  hospitality  of  the 
town  for  that  night. 

They  were  willing  to  purchase  slaves;  and  had  visited 
the  pen  to  examine  those  their  hosts  were  offering  for 
Bale. 

"  You  are  just  the  men  we  are  most  anxious  to  see,"  said 
Jim,  in  the  Arabic  language,  which,  during  his  long  resi- 
dence in  the  country,  lie  had  become  acquainted  with,  and 
could  speak  fluently.  "  We  want  some  merchant  to  buy  us, 
and  take  us  to  Mogador,  where  we  may  find  friends  to  ran- 
som us." 

''  I  once  bought  two  slaves,"  rejoined  one  of  the  merchants, 
"  and  at  great  expense  took  them  to  Mogador.  Thej  told 
me  that  their  consul  would  be  sure  to  redeem  them  ;  but  I 
found  that  they  had  no  consul  thei'e.  They  were  not  re- 
deemed ;  and  I  had  to  bring  tliem  away  again,  —  having  all 
the  trouble  and  expense  of  a  long  journey." 

"  "Were  they  Englishmen  ?  "  asked  Jim. 

"  No :  Spaniards." 

"I  thought  so.  Englishmen  would  certainly  have  been 
ransomed." 

"  That  is  not  so  certain,"  replied  the  merchant ;  "  the 
English  may  not  always  have  a  consul  in  Mogador  to  buy 
up  his  countrymen." 

"  "We  do  not  care  whether  there  is  one  or  not ! "  answered 
Jim.  "  One  of  the  young  fellows  you  see  here  has  an  uncle 
—  a  rich  merchant  in  Mogador,  who  will  ransom  not  only 
him,  but  all  of  his  friends.  The  three  young  men  you  see 
are  officers  of  an  English  ship-of-vvar.  They  have  rich  fa- 
thers iu  England,  —  all  of  them  grand  sheiks,  —  and  they 


272  THE  BOY  SLA\T:S. 

were  learning  to  be  captains  of  war-ships,  when  they  wer* 
lost  on  this  coast.  The  uncle  of  one  of  them  in  Mogador 
will  redeem  the  whole  party  of  us." 

"  Which  is  he  who  has  the  rich  uncle  ?  "  inquired  one  cf 
the  Arabs. 

Jim  pointed  to  Harry  Blount,  saying,  "  That  is  the  young- 
ster. His  uncle  owns  many  great  vessels,  that  come  every 
year  to  Swearah,  laden  with  rich  cargoes." 

'*  What  is  the  name  of  this  uncle  ?  " 

To  give  an  appearance  of  truth  to  his  story,  Jim  knew 
that  it  was  necessary  for  some  of  the  others  to  say  some- 
thing that  would  confirm  it ;  and  turning  towards  Harry, 
he  muttered,  "  Master  Blount,  you  are  expected  to  say 
something  —  only  two  or  three  words  —  any  thing  you 
like  ! " 

"  For  God's  sake,  get  them  to  buy  us  ! "  said  Harry,  in 
complying  with  the  singular  request  made  to  him. 

Believing  that  the  name  he  must  give  to  the  Arabs  should 
something  resemble  in  sound  the  words  Harry  had  spoken, 
Jim  told  them  that  the  name  of  the  Mogador  merchant  was 
**  For  God's  sake  buy  us." 

After  repeating  these  words  two  or  three  times,  the  Arabs 
were  able  to  pronounce  them  —  after  a  fashion. 

"  Ask  the  young  man,"  commanded  one  of  them,  "  if  he  is 
sure  the  merchant  '  For  God's  sake  bias '  will  ransom  you 
all?" 

"  When  I  am  done  speaking  to  you,"  said  Jim,  whisper- 
ing to  Harry,  "  say  Yes !  nod  your  head,  and  then  uttor 
some  words  !  " 

"  Yes  !  "  exclaimed  Harry,  giving  his  head  an  abrupt  in- 
clination. "  I  think  I  know  what  you  are  trying  to  do,  Jim. 
All  right!" 

"  Yes  !  "  said  Jim,  turning  to  the  Aiab  ;  "  the  young  fel* 
low  says  that  he  is  quite  certain  his  uncle  wiU  buy  us  all 
Our  fi-iends  at  home  will  repay  him." 


SOID  AGAIN.  273 

"  But  liow  about  the  black  man  ?  "  asked  one  cf  the  mer- 
chants.    "  He  is  not  an  Englishman  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  he  speaks  English.  He  has  sailed  in  English 
ships,  and  will  certainly  be  redeemed  with  the  rest." 

The  Arabs  now  retired  from  the  pen,  after  promising  to 
call  and  see  our  adventurers  early  in  the  morning. 

Ai'ter  their  departure,  Jim  related  the  whole  of  the  con- 
versation to  his  companion-s,  which  had  the  effect  of  inspix- 
Lig  them  with  renewed  hope. 

"  Tell  them  anything,"  said  HaiTy,  "  and  promise  any- 
thing ;  for  I  think  there  is  no  doubt  of  our  being  ransomed, 
if  taken  to  Mogador,  although  I  'm  sure  I  have  no  uncle 
there,  and  don't  know  whether  there 's  any  English  consul 
at  that  port." 

"  To  get  to  Mogador  is  our  only  chance,"  said  Jim  ;  "  and 
I  wish  I  were  guilty  of  no  worse  crime  than  using  deception, 
to  induce  some  one  to  take  us  there.  I  have  a  hope  that 
these  men  will  buy  us  on  speculation  ;  and  if  lies  will  induce 
them  to  do  so,  they  shall  have  plenty  of  them  from  me. 
And  you,"  continued  he,  turning  to  the  Krooman,  "  you 
must  not  let  them  know  that  you  speak  their  language,  or 
they  will  not  give  a  dollar  for  you.  When  tliey  come  here 
in  the  morning,  you  must  converse  with  the  rest  of  us  in 
EngHsh,  —  so  that  they  may  have  reason  to  think  that  you 
will  also  be  redeemed." 

Next  morning,  the  merchants  again  came  to  the  pen,  and 
the  slaves,  at  their  request,  arose  and  walked  out  to  the. 
open  space  in  front,  where  they  could  be  better  examined. 

After  becoming  satisfied  that  all  were  capable  of  travel- 
ling, one  of  the  Arabs,  addressing  Jim,  said  :  — 

"  We  are  going  to  purchase  you,  if  you  satisfy  us  that 
you  are  not  trying  to  deceive  us,  and  agree  to  the  terras  we 
offer.  Tell  the  nephew  of  the  English  merchant  that  we 
must  be  paid  one  hundred  and  fifty  Spanisli  dollars  fur  each 
of  you." 

12*  B 


274  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Jim  made  the  communication  to  Harry  ;  who  at  once  cob 
sented  that  this  sum  should  be  paid. 

"  What  is  the  name  of  his  uncle  ? "  asked  one  of  the 
Arabs.     "  Let  the  young  man  tell  us." 

"  They  wish  to  know  the  name  of  your  uncle,"  said  Jim, 
turning  to  Harry.  "  The  name  I  told  you  yesterday.  You 
must  try  and  remember  it ;  for  I  must  not  be  heard  repeat- 
ing it  to  you." 

"  For  God's  sake  buy  us  !  "  exclaimed  Harry. 

The  Arabs  looked  at  each  other  with  an  expression  that 
seemed  to  say,  "  It 's  all  right ! " 

"  Now,"  said  one  of  the  party,  "  I  must  tell  you  what  will 
be  the  penalty,  if  we  be  deceived.  If  we  take  you  to 
Mogador,  and  find  that  there  is  no  one  there  to  redeem  you, 
if  the  young  man,  who  says  he  has  an  uncle,  be  not  telling 
the  truth,  tlien  we  shall  cut  his  throat,  and  bring  the  rest 
of  you  back  to  the  desert,  to  be  sold  into  perpetual  slavery. 
Tell  him  that." 

"  They  are  going  to  buy  us,"  said  Jim  to  Harry  Blount ; 
*'  but  if  we  are  not  redeemed  in  Mogador,  you  are  to  have 
your  throat  cut  for  deceiving  them." 

"  All  right !  "  said  Harry,  smiling  at  the  thi-eat,  "  that  wDl 
be  better  than  living  any  longer  a  slave  in  the  Saara." 

"  Now  look  at  the  Krooman  ";  suggested  Sailor  Bill, "  and 
say  something  about  him." 

Harry  taking  the  hint,  turned  towards  the  African. 

"  I  hope,"  said  he,  "  that  they  will  purchase  the  poor  fel- 
low ;  and  that  we  may  get  him  redeemed.  After  the  many 
services  he  has  rendered  us,  I  should  not  like  to  leave  him 
behind." 

"  He  consents  that  you  may  kill  the  Krooman,  if  we  ara 
not  ransomed  " ;  said  Jim,  speaking  to  the  Arab  merchants, 
"  but  he  does  not  like  to  promise  more  than  one  hundred 
dollars  for  a  negro.     His  uncle  might  refuse  to  pay  more." 

For  some  niinutes  the  Arabs  conversed  with  each  other 


SOLD  AGAIN.  273 

m  a  low  tone ;  and  then  one  of  them  replied,  "  It  is  welL 
We  will  take  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  negro.  And  now 
get  ready  for  the  road.  We  shall  start  with  you  to-morrow 
morninsr  by  daybreak." 

The  merchants  then  went  off  to  complete  their  bargain 
with  the  old  sheik,  and  make  other  arrangements  for  their 
departure. 

For  a  few  minutes  the  white  slaves  kept  uttering  excla 
mations  of  delight  at  the  prospect  of  being  once  more  re 
stored  to  liberty.  Jim  then  gave  them  a  translation  of 
what  he  had  said  about  the  Krcoman. 

"  I  know  the  Arab  character  so  well,"  said  he,  "  that  I 
did  not  wish  to  agree  to  all  their  terms  without  a  little  hag- 
gling, which  prevents  them  from  entertaining  the  suspicion 
that  we  are  trying  to  deceive  them.  Besides,  as  the  Kroo- 
man  is  not  an  English  subject,  there  may  be  great  difficulty 
in  getting  him  redeemed ;  and  we  should  therefore  bargain 
for  him  as  cheaply  as  possible." 

Not  long  after  the  Arab  merchants  had  taken  their  depar- 
ture from  the  pen,  a  supply  of  food  and  drink  was  served 
out  to  them :  which,  from  its  copiousness,  proved  that  it  was 
provided  at  the  expense  of  theu*  new  owners. 

This  beginning  augured  well  for  their  future  treatment ; 
and  that  night  was  spent  by  the  Boy  Slaves  in  a  state  of 
contentment  and  reposa  greater  than  they  had  experienced 
gince  first  setting  foot  on  the  inhospitable  shores  of  the 


276  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER    LXXII. 

ONWARD    ONCE   MORE. 

EARLY  next  morning  our  adventurers  were  awakenedj 
and  ordered  to  prepare  for  the  road. 

The  Arab  merchants  had  purchased  from  their  late  hosts 
three  donkeys,  upon  which  the  white  slaves  were  allowed  to 
ride  in  turns.  Harry  Blount,  however,  was  distinguished 
from  tlie  rest.  As  the  nephew  of  the  rich  merchant,  "  For 
God's  sake  buy  us ! "  he  was  deemed  worthy  of  higher  fa- 
vor, and  was  permitted  to  have  a  camel. 

In  vain  he  protested  against  being  thus  elevated  above  his 
companions.  The  Arabs  did  not  heed  his  remonstrances, 
and  at  a  few  words  from  Jim  he  discontinued  them. 

"  They  think  that  we  are  to  be  released  from  slavery  by 
the  money  of  your  relative,"  said  Jim,  "  and  you  must  do 
nothing  to  undeceive  them.  Not  to  humor  them  might 
awaken  their  suspicions.  Besides,  as  you  are  the  responsi- 
ble person  of  the  party,  —  the  one  whose  throat  is  to  be  cut 
if  the  money  be  not  found,  —  you  are  entitled  to  a  little  dis- 
tinction, as  a  compensation  for  extra  anxiety. 

The  Krooman,  who  had  joined  the  slaves  in  cutting  the 
grain,  was  in  the  field  at  work  when  the  merchants  moved 
off,  and  was  not  present  to  bid  farewell  to  his  more  fortunate 
countryman. 

Alter  travelling  about  twelve  miles  through  a  fertile  coun  • 
try,  much  of  which  was  in  cultivation,  the  Arab  merchants 
arrived  at  a  large  reservoir  of  water,  where  they  encamped 
for  the  night. 

The  water  was  in  a  stone  tank,  placed  so  as  to  catch  all 
the  rain  that  fcjU  in  a  long  narrow  valley,  gradually  descend- 
mg  from  some  hills  to  the  northward. 

Jim  had  visited  the  place  before,  and  told  his  companion* 


ONWARD   ONCE  MORE.  277 

that  tLe  tank  uad  been  constiucted  by  a  man  whose  memory 
was  much  respected,  and  who  had  died  nearly  a  hundrecl 
years  acjo. 

During  the  night  the  Krooman,  who  had  been  left  behind, 
entered  the  encampment,  confident  in  the  belief  that  he  had 
eaciiped  from  his  taskmasters. 

At  sunset  he  had  contrived  to  conceal  himself  among  the 
barley  slieaves  until  his  masters  were  out  of  sight,  when  he 
had  started  ofl'  on  the  track  taken  by  the  Arab  merchants. 

He  was  not  allowed  long  indulgence  in  his  dream  of  lib- 
erty. On  the  following  morning,  as  tlie  kafila  was  about  to 
continue  its  journey,  three  men  were  seen  approaching  on 
swift  camels ;  and  shortly  after  Eias  Abdallah  Yessed,  and 
two  of  his  followers  rode  up. 

They  were  in  pursuit  of  the  runaway  Krooman,  and  in 
great  rage  at  the  trouble  which  he  had  caused  them.  So 
anxious  were  the  Boy  Slaves  that  the  poor  fellow  should 
continue  along  with  them,  that,  for  their  sake,  the  Ai-ab 
merchants  made  a  strenuous  effort  to  purchase  him ;  but 
Rias  Abdallah  obstinately  refused  to  sell  him  at  anything 
like  a  reasonaljle  price.  The  Krooman  had  given  proof  that 
he  could  be  very  useful  in  the  harvest -field ;  and  a  sum 
much  greater  than  had  been  paid  for  any  of  the  others,  waa 
demanded  for  him.  He  was  worth  more  to  his  pj-esent 
owners  than  what  the  Arab  merchants  could  afford  to  give ; 
and  was  therelbre  dragged  back  to  the  servitude  from  which 
he  had  hoped  to  escape. 

"  "i  ou  can  see  now,  that  I  was  right,"  said  Jim.  "  Htd 
we  consented  to  cut  their  harvest,  we  should  never  have  luid 
aa  o])portunity  of  regaining  our  liberty.  Our  labor  for  a 
single  year  would  have  been  worth  as  mucli  to  them  as  the 
price  they  received  for  us,  and  we  should  Iiave  been  held  in 
pei'iietual  bondage." 

Jim's  companions  could  perceive  the  truth  of  this  obser- 
Tdtion,  but   not  without   being  conscious  that   their   good 


278  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

fortune  wa?,  on  their  part,  wholly  undeserved,  and  that  had 
it  not  been  for  him,  they  would  have  yielded  to  the  wishes 
of  tlieir  late  masters. 

After  another  march,  the  merchants  made  halt  near  some 
wells,  around  Avhich  a  large  Arab  encampment  was  found 
already  e.-tablished,  —  the  flocks  and  herds  wandering  oveir 
the  adjacent  plain.  Here  our  adventurers  had  an  opportu- 
aity  of  observing  some  of  the  manners  and  customs;  of  thia 
Domadic  people. 

Here,  for  the  first  time,  they  witnessed  the  Arab  method 
of  making  butter. 

A  goat's  skin,  nearly  filled  with  the  milk  of  camels,  asses, 
slieep,  and  goats,  all  mixed  together,  was  susi)ended  to  the 
ridge  pole  of  a  tent,  and  then  swung  to  and  fj-o  by  a  child, 
until  the  butter  Avas  produced.  The  milk  was  then  poured 
off,  and  the  butter  clawed  out  of  the  skin  by  the  black  dirty 
fingers  of  the  women. 

The  Arabs  allege  that  they  wore  the  first  people  who  dis- 
covered the  art  of  making  butter,  —  though  the  discovery 
does  not  entitle  them  to  any  great  credit,  since  they  could 
scarce  have  avoided  making  it.  The  necessity  of  carrying 
milk  in  these  skin  bags,  on  a  journey,  must  have  conducted 
them  to  the  discovery.  The  agitation  of  the  fluid,  while  be- 
ing transported  on  the  backs  of  the  camels,  producing  the 
.'esult,  naturally  suggested  the-  idea  of  bringing  it  about  by 
similar  means  when  tliey  were  not  travelling. 

At  this  place  the  slaves  were  treated  to  some  barley-cakes, 
and  were  allowed  a  little  of  the  uulter ;  and  this,  notwith- 
standing the  filthy  mode  in  which  it  had  been  prepai-ed,  ap- 
peared to  them  the  mo>t  delicious  tliey  had  ever  tasted. 

During  the  evening,  the  three  merchants,  along  with  sev- 
eral other  Ai-abs,  seated  themselves  in  a  circle;  when  a  pipe 
was  lit  and  pa^sed  round  from  one  to  another.  Each  would 
take  a  long  draw,  and  tlieu  hand  the  pipe  to  his  left-hand 
neighbor. 


ANOTHER  BARGAIN.  279 

While  thus  occupied,  they  kept  up  an  animated  conversa- 
tion, in  which  the  word  "  Swearah  "  was  often  pronounced. 
Swearah  of  course  meant  "  Mogador." 

"  They  are  talking  about  us,"  said  Jim,  "  and  we  must 
learn  for  what  purpose.  I  am  afraid  there  is  something 
wrong.  Krooman  !  "  he  continued,  addressing  himself  to  the 
black,  "  vhey  don't  know  that  you  understand  their  language. 
Lie  down  near  them,  and  pretend  to  be  asleep ;  but  take 
note  of  every  word  they  say.  If  I  go  up  to  them  they  will 
drive  me  away." 

The  Krooman  did  as  desired ;  and  carelessly  sauntering 
near  the  circle,  appeared  to  be  searching  for  a  soft  place  on 
which  to  lay  himself  for  the  night. 

This  he  discovered  some  seven  or  eight  paces  from  thfc 
spot  where  the  Arabs  were  seated. 

"  I  have  been  disappointed  about  obtaining  my  freedom  so 
many  times,"  muttered  Jim,  "that  I  can  scarce  believe  I 
shall  ever  succeed.  Those  fellows  are  talking  about  Moga- 
dor; and  I  don't  like  their  looks.  Hark!  what  is  that 
about '  more  than  you  can  get  in  Swearah  ! '  I  believe  these 
new  Arabs  are  making  an  offer  to  buy  us.  If  so,  may  their 
prophets  curse  them ! " 


CHAPTER    LXXIII. 

ANOTHER    BARGAIN. 

/'I'^IIE  conversation  amongst  the  Arabs  was  kept  up  until 
I     a  late  hour ;    and  during  the  time  it  contijiucd,  our 
ftdventui-ers  were  impatiently  awaiting  the  return   of  the 
Krooman. 

He  came  at  length,  after  the  Arabs  had  retired  to  their 


280  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

tents  ;  and  all  gathered  around  him,  eager  to  learn  what  he 
had  heard. 

"  I  find  out  too  much,"  said  he,  in  answer  to  their  inqui- 
ries ;  "  too  much,  and  no  much  good." 

«  What  was  it  ?  " 

"  Two  of  you  be  sold  to  morrow." 

"  What  two  ?  " 

"  No  one  know.  One  man  examine  us  all  in  the  morn- 
ing, but  take  only  two." 

After  suffering  a  long  lesson  teaching  the  virtue  of  pa- 
tience, they  learnt  from  the  Krooman  that  one  of  those  who 
had  been  conversing  with  their  masters  was  a  grazier,  own- 
ing large  droves  of  cattle ;  and  that  he  had  lately  been  to 
Swearah. 

He  had  told  the  merchants  that  they  would  not  be  able 
to  get  a  large  price  for  their  slaves  in  that  place  ;  and  that 
the  chances  were  much  against  their  makuig  more  than  the 
actual  expenses  incurred  in  so  long  a  journey.  He  assured 
the  Arab  merchants  that  no  Christian  consul  or  foreign 
merchant  m  Mogador  would  pay  a  dollar  more  for  redeem- 
ing six  slaves  than  what  they  could  be  made  to  pay  for  two 
or  three ;  that  they  were  not  always  willing  or  prepared  tc 
pay  anything ;  and  that  whenever  they  did  redeem  a  slave, 
they  did  not  consider  his  value,  but  only  the  time  and  ex- 
pense that  had  been  incurred  in  bringing  him  to  the  place. 

Under  tlie  influence  of  these  representations,  the  Arab 
merchants  ha'l  agi-eed  to  sell  two  of  their  white  slaves  to  the 
grazier,  —  thinking  they  would  get  as  much  for  the  remain- 
ing four  as  they  would  by  taking  all  six  to  the  end  of  the 
journey. 

The  owner  of  the  herds  was  to  make  his  choice  in  the 
morning. 

"  I  thought  there  was  a  breaker  ahead,"  exc  laimed  Jim, 
after  the  Krooman  ha'l  concluded  his  report.  "  We  nmst  not 
be  separated  except  by  liberty  or  death.     Our  masters  must 


ANOTHER  BARGAIN.  281 

take  us  all  to  Mogador.  There  is  trouble  before  ns  yet ; 
but  we  must  be  firm,  and  overcome  it.  Fii'mness  has  saved 
us  once,  and  may  do  so  again." 

After  all  had  promised  to  be  guided  in  the  coming  emer- 
gency by  Jim,  they  laid  themselves  along  the  ground,  and 
sought  rest  in  sleep. 

Next  morning,  while  they  were  eating  their  breakfast, 
they  were  visited  by  the  grazier  who  was  expected  to  mako 
choice  of  two  of  their  number. 

"  Which  is  the  one  who  speaks  Arabic  ? "  he  inquired 
from  one  of  the  merchants. 

Jim  was  pointed  out,  and  was  at  once  selected  as  one  of 
the  two  to  be  purcha.-ed. 

"  Tell  'im  to  buy  me,  too,  Jim,"  said  Bill,  "  "We  '11  sail  in 
company,  you  and  I,  though  I  don't  much  like  partin'  with 
the  young  gentlemen  here." 

"  You  shall  not  part  either  with  them  or  me,  if  I  can 
help  it,"  answered  Jim  ;  "  but  we  must  expect  some  torture. 
Let  all  bear  it  like  devils  ;  and  don't  give  in.  That 's  our 
only  chance  ! " 

Glancing  his  eyes  over  the  other  slaves,  the  grazier  se- 
lected Terence  as  the  second  for  whom  he  was  willing  to  pay 
a  price. 

His  terms  having  been  accepted  by  the  merchants,  they 
•were  about  concluding  the  bargain,  when  they  were  accosted 
by  Jim. 

He  assured  them  that  he  and  his  companions  were  deter- 
m/ned  to  die,  before  they  should  be  separated,  —  that  none 
of  them  would  do  any  work  if  retained  in  slavery,  —  and 
that  all  were  determined  to  be  taken  to  Swearah. 

The  merchants  and  the  buyer  only  smiled  at  this  inter- 
ruption ;.  and  went  on  with  the  negotiation. 

In  vain  3id  Jim  appeal  lo  their  cupidity,  —  reminding 
them  that  the  merchant,  "  for  God's  sake  bias,"  v/ould  pay  • 
for  higher  price  for  himself  and  his  companirms. 


282  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

His  arguments  and  entreaties  failed  to  change  their  deteik 
miuation,  —  the  bargain  was  concluded;  and  Jim  and  Ter- 
ence wei'e  made  over  to  their  new  master. 

The  mercl  ants  then  mounted  their  camels,  and  ordered 
the  other  four  to  follow  them. 

Harry  Blount,  Colin,  and  Sailor  Bill  answered  this  com- 
mand by  sulkily  sitting  down  upon  the  sand. 

Another  command  from  the  merchants  was  given  in  sharp 
tones  that  betrayed  their  rising  wrath. 

"  Obey  them  !  "  exclaimed  Jim.  "  Go  on  ;  and  Master 
Terence  and  I  will  follow  you.  We  '11  stand  the  brunt  of 
the  battle.     They  shall  not  hold  me  here  alive  ! " 

Colin  and  Bill  each  mounted  a  donkey,  and  Harry  his 
camel  —  the  Arab  merchants  seeming  quite  satisfied  at  the 
result  of  their  slight  exliibitiou  of  auger. 

Jim  and  Terence  attempted  to  follow  them ;  bat  their  new 
master  was  prepared  for  this ;  and,  at  a  word  of  command, 
several  of  his  followers  seized  hold  of  and  fast  bound  both 
of  them. 

Jim's  threat  that  they  should  not  hold  him  alive,  had  thus 
proved  but  an  idle  boast. 

Harry,  Colin,  and  Bill,  now  turned  back,  dismounted,  and 
showed  their  determination  to  remain  with  their  compan- 
ions, by  sitting  down  alongside  of  them. 

"  These  Christian  dogs  do  not  wish  for  liberty ! "  ex- 
claimed one  of  the  merchants.  ''Allah  iurbid  that  we  should 
force  them  to  accept  it.     Who  will  buy  them  ?  " 

These  words  completely  upset  all  Jim's  plans.  He  saw 
that  he  was  depriving  the  others  of  the  only  opportunity 
they  might  ever  have  of  obtaining  their  liberty. 

"  Go  on,  go  on  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Make  no  further  re- 
sistance. It  is  possible  they  may  take  you  to  Mogadon 
Do  not  throw  away  the  chance." 

"  We  are  not  goin'  to  lave  you,  Jim,"  said  Bill,  "  not  even 
for  liberty,  —  leastways,  I  'm  not.  Don 't  you  be  afeerd  o 
that  I" 


MORE  TORTURE.  288 

"  Of  a  )ur8C  we  will  not,  unless  we  are  forced  to  do  so," 
added  H  irry.  "  Have  you  not  said  that  we  must  keep  to- 
gether ?■" 

"  Have  you  not  all  promised  to  be  guided  by  me  ?  "  re- 
plied Jim.  "  I  tell  you  now  to  make  no  more  resistance 
Go  on  with  tliem  if  you  wish  ever  to  be  free ! " 

"  Jim  knows  what  he  is  about,"  interposed  Colin ;  "  let  is 
obey  him." 

With  some  reluctance,  Harry  and  Bill  were  induced  to 
mount  again ;  but  just  as  they  were  moving  away,  they  were 
recalled  by  Jim,  who  told  them  not  to  leave  ;  and  that  all 
must  persevere  in  the  determination  not  to  be  separated. 

"  The  man  has  certainly  gone  mad,"  reflected  Harry 
Blount,  as  he  turned  back  once  more.  "  We  must  no  long- 
er be  controlled  by  him  ;  but  Terence  must  not  be  left  be- 
hind.    We  cannot  forsake  Mm." 

Again  the  three  dismounted,  and  returning  to  the  spot 
where  Jim  and  Terence  lay  fast  bound  along  the  sand,  sat 
detenrunedly  down  beside  them. 


CHAPTER    LXXIV. 

MORE    TORTURE. 

ri"^HE  sudden  change  of  purpose  and  the  coui^ter-ordera 
_L  given  by  Jim  were  caused  by  something  he  had  just 
beard  while  listening  to  the  conversation  of  the  Arabs, 

Seeing  that  the  merchants,  rather  than  have  any  unneces- 
saiy  trouble  with  them,  were  disposed  to  sell  them  all,  Jim 
had  been  unwilling  to  deprive  his  brother  and  the  others  of 
an  opportunity  of  obtaining  their  freedom.     For  this  reason 


284  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

had  he  entreated  tliem  to  leave  Terence  and  himself  to  the?; 
fate. 

But  just  as  he  had  prevailed  on  Ilany  and  his  companion 
to  go  (|uietly,  he  learnt  from  the  Arabs  that  the  man  who 
had  purchased  Terence  and  himself  refused  to  have  any 
more  of  them  ;  and  also  that  the  other  Arabs  present  were 
either  unable  oi  unwilling  to  buy  them. 

The  merchants,  therefore,  would  have  to  take  them  far- 
ther before  they  could  dispose  of  them. 

In  Jim's  mind  then  revived  the  hope  that,  by  opposmg 
the  wishes  of  his  late  masters,  he  and  Terence  might  be 
bought  back  again  and  taken  on  to  Mogador. 

It  was  this  hope  that  had  induced  him  to  recall  his  compan- 
ions after  urging  them  to  depart. 

A  few  words  explained  his  apparently  strange  conduct 
to  Harry  and  Colin,  and  they  promised  to  resist  every  at- 
tempt made  to  take  them  any  farther  unless  all  should  go  in 
company. 

The  merchants  in  vain  commanded  and  entreated  that  the 
Christian  dogs  should  move  on.  They  used  threats,  and 
then  resorted  to  blows. 

Harry,  to  whom  they  had  hitherto  shown  much  respect, 
was  beaten  until  his  scanty  garments  were  saturated  with 
blood. 

Unwilling  to  see  others  suffering  so  much  torture  unsup- 
ported vj  any  selfish  desire,  Jim  again  counselled  Harry 
and  the  others  to  yield  obedience  to  their  masters. 

In  this  counsel  he  was  warmly  seconded  by  Terence. 

But  Harry  declared  his  determination  not  to  desert  his 
old  shipmate  Colin,  and  Bill  remained  equally  firm  under  the 
torture  ;  while  the  Krooman,  knowing  that  his  only  chance 
of  liberty  depended  on  remaining  true  to  the  white  slaves, 
and  keei>ing  in  their  coqipauy,  could  not  be  made  to  yield. 

Perceiving  that  all  his  entreaties  —  addressed  to  his  broth* 
p.r,  Harry,  and  Cohn  —  could  not  put  an  end  to  the  painfiu 


MGhE  TORTURE.  285 

Bcene  he  was  compelled  to  witness,  Jim  strove  to  effect  soma 
purpose  by  making  an  appeal  to  his  late  masters. 

"  Buy  us  back,  and  take  us  all  to  Swearah  as  you  prom- 
ised," said  he.  "  If  you  do  so,  we  will  go  cheerfully  as  we 
were  doing  before.  I  tell  you,  you  will  be  well  paid  for  youT 
trouble." 

One  of  the  merchants,  placing  some  confidence  in  the  truth 
of  this  representation,  now  offered  to  buy  Jim  and  Terence 
en  his  own  account ;  but  their  new  master  refused  to  part 
with  his  newly-acquired  property. 

A  crowd  of  men,  women,  and  children  had  now  gathered 
around  the  spot ;  and  from  all  sides  were  heard  shouts  of 
"  Kill  the  obstinate  Christian  '  dogs.'  How  dare  they  resist 
the  will  of  true  believers  !  " 

This  advice  was  given  by  those  who  had  no  pecuniary  in- 
terest in  the  chattels  in  question ;  but  the  merchants,  who 
had  invested  a  large  sum  in  the  purchase  of  the  white  slaves, 
bad  no  idea  of  making  such  a  sacrifice  for  the  gratification 
of  a  mere  passion. 

There  was  but  one  way  for  them  to  overcome  the  difficul- 
ty that  had  so  unexpectedly  presented  itself.  This  was  to 
separate  the  slaves  by  force,  taking  the  four  along  with  them ; 
and  leaving  the  other  two  to  the  purchaser  who  would  not 
revoke  his  bargain. 

To  accomplish  this,  the  assistance  of  the  bystanders  was 
required  and  readily  obtained. 

Harry  was  fir^t  seized  and  placed  on  the  back  of  his  cam- 
el, to  which  he  was  firmly  bound. 

Colin,  Bill,  and  the  Krooman  were  each  set  astride  of  a 
donkey,  and  then  made  fast  by  having  their  feet  tied  under 
the  animal's  belly. 

For  a  small  sum  the  merchants  then  engaged  two  of  th« 
Arabs  to  accompany  them  and  guard  the  white  slaves  to  th« 
frontier  of  the  Moorish  empire,  a  distance  of  two  days'  jour- 


286  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Wliile  the  party  was  about  to  move  away  from  the  spo^ 
one  of  the  ineichants,  addressing  himself  to  Jim,  made  the 
following  observations. 

"  Tell  the  young  man,  the  nephew  of  the  merchant, 
*  For  God's  sake  bias,'  that  since  we  have  started  for 
Swearab  in  the  belief  that  his  story  is  true,  we  shall  now 
take  him  there  whether  he  is  willing  or  not,  and  if  he  has 
ill  anyway  deceived  us,  he  shall  surely  die."' 

"  He  has  not  deceived  you,"  said  Jim,  "  take  him  and  the 
others  there,  and  you  will  certainly  be  paid." 

"  Then  why  do  they  not  go  willingly  ?  " 

"  Becau>^e  tliey  do  not  wish  to  leave  their  friends." 

"  Ungrateful  dogs  !  cannot  they  be  thankful  for  their  own 
good  fortune  ?  Do  they  take  us  for  slaves,  that  we  should 
do  their  wiU  ?  " 

While  the  conversation  was  going  on,  the  other  two  mer- 
chants had  headed  their  animals  to  the  road ;  and  in  a  min- 
ute after  Harry  Blount  and  Colin  had  parted  with  their  old 
messmate  Terence,  without  a  hope  of  ever  meeting  him 
again. 


CHAPTER    LXXV. 


EN    ROUTE. 


AND  now  away  for  the  Mooi''<sh  frontier . 
Away,  —  trusting  tliat  the  last  hasty  promise  of  the 
merchant  to  test  their  earnest  story,  and  yield  to  the  impor- 
tunate desires  which  they  had  so  long  cherished,  might  not 
be  unfuUilled. 

Away,  —  out  into  the  desert  again  ;  into  that  broad,  bar- 
ren wilderness  of  sand,  stretchuig  wearily  on  as  far  as  ey« 


EN  KOUTE.  287 

eould  reacli,  aud  beyond  the  utmost  limil  of  human  steps, 
where  the  wild  beasts  almost  fear  to  tread. 

Away,  —  under  the  glare  of  the  tropic  sun,  whose  torrid 
beams  fall  from  heavens  that  glow  like  hot  walls  of  brass, 
and  beat  down  througli  an  atmosphere  whose  faint  undu- 
lations in  the  breath  of  the  desert  wind  ebb  and  flow  ovei 
the  parched  travellers,  like  waves  of  a  fiery  sea ;  under  a 
sun  that  seems  to  grow  ever  larger  and  brighter  as  the  tired 
eyes,  sick  with  beholding  its  yellow  splendor  overflowing  all 
the  world,  yet  turn  toward  it  their  fascinated  gaze,  and 
faint  into  burning  dryness  at  its  sight. 

Away,  —  from  the  coolness  of  city  walls,  and  the  dark 
shadows  of  narrow,  high-built  streets,  where  the  sunlighl 
comes  only  at  the  height  of  noon,  where  men  hide  within 
doors  as  the  hot  hours  draw  nigh,  and  rest  in  silent  cham- 
bers, or  drowse  away  the  time  with  tchihouque  or  nargJdkh^ 
whose  softened  odor  of  the  rich  Eastern  tobacco  floats  up 
through  perfumed  waters  and  tubes  of  aromatic  woods  to 
lei_surely  lips,  and  curls  in  dim  wreaths  before  restful  eyelids 
half  dropping  to  repose. 

A.way,  —  from  the  association  of  men  in  street,  lane,  ba- 
zaar, and  market-place.  No  very  profitable  or  happy  asso- 
ciation for  the  poor  captives,  one  might  think  ;  and  yet  not 
so.  For  in  every  group  of  bystanders,  or  bevy  of  passers, 
they  perchance  might  see  him  who  should  prove  their  angel 
of  deliverance,  —  a  kindly  merchant,  a  new  speculator,  or 
even,  by  some  event  of  gracious  fortune,  a  countryman  or  a 
friend. 

Away,  —  from  all  that  they  had  boriie  and  hoped,  and 
borne  and  seen  and  suffered,  into  the  desert  whose  paths  lay 
invisible  to  them,  mapped  out  in  the  keen  intellects  of  their 
guides  and  guards,  who  read  the  streaming  sand  of  Saiira 
as  sailors  read  tlie  wilds  of  sweeping  seas,  but  whose  dusky 
faces,  as  inscrutable  as  the  barren  wastes,  revealed  no  trace 
of  tne  secret  of  the  path  they  led,  —  Avh<jther  ind'jed  the 


288  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

great  IMoorish  Empire  were  their  destination,  or  wliethex 
they  turned  their  steps  to  some  unknown  and  untried  goal. 

Away,  —  from  the  hum  of  business,  from  the  gossip  of 
idlers  and  the  staid  speech  of  a  city  into  the  silence  of  the 
vast  desolation  wherein  they  moved,  the  only  I'easoning, 
thinking  beings  it  contained.  Silence  all  around,  unbroken 
save  by  the  smothered  tread  of  the  beasts  in  their  little 
train,  the  shouts  of  the  drivers,  the  chattering  of  the  attend- 
ants, the  rattling  of  harness  and  burdens,  and  the  soft  sough 
of  the  sand  as  it  sank  back  into  the  hot  level  from  whict 
the  passing  hoofs  had  disturbed  it. 

Away,  away,  —  and  who  shall  attempt  to  paint  the  feel- 
ings of  the  captives  as  their  wanderings  began  again  ?  It 
would  need  a  brilliant  pen  to  convey  the  sensations  with 
which  the  voyageur,  eager  for  scenes  of  adventure  and  fresh 
from  the  hive<l-up  haunts  of  civilization,  would  enter  upon  a 
desert  jaunt,  to  whom  £dl  was  full  of  novelty  and  interest, 
whose  companions  were  subjects  for  curious  study,  speaking 
in  accents  the  unfamiliar  Oriental  cadence  of  which  fell 
pleasantly  upon  his  tar,  and  who  found  in  every  hour  some 
fresh  cause  for  wonder  or  pleasure.  But  a  pen  of  marvel- 
lous power  and  pathos  must  be  invoked  to  portray  the  min- 
gled emotions  that  swayed  in  swilt  succession  the  minds  of 
our  Boy  Slaves  !  No  charm  existed  for  them  in  the  strange- 
ness of  desert  scener)',  Arab  comradeship,  and  the  murmur 
of  Eastern  tongues ;  they  had  long  passed  the  time  for  that, 
while  their  bitter  familiarity  with  all  these  made  even  a 
deep  revulsion  of  feeling  in  their  sorely  tried  souls.  Hope, 
fear,  doubt,  fatigue,  anxious  yearning,  and  vague  desj)air, 
—  all  in  turn  swept  through  their  thoughts,  even  as  the 
dust  of  their  pitiless  pathway  swept  over  their  scorched 
faces,  and  covered  with  effacing  monotony  every  vestige 
of  their  passage.  Mine  is  no  such  potent  pen,  and  so  let 
us  leave  them,  bound  to  their  beasts  of  burden,  going  down 
from  the  abodes  of  men  into  the  depths  again ;  and  so  lei 
us  leave  them,  journeying  ever  onward,  —  away,  away  I 


HOrL  DEFERRED.  SB9 


CHAPTER     LXXVI, 

HOPE    DEFERRED. 

1"10R  the  first  hour  of  their  journey,  Harry,  Colin,  and 
.  Sailor  Bill,  were  borne  along  fast  bound  upon  the 
backs  of  their  animals.  So  disagreeable  did  they  find  this 
mode  of  locomotion,  that  the  Krooman  was  requested  to 
inform  their  masters,  that  they  were  willing  to  accompany 
them  without  further  opposition,  if  allowed  the  freedom  of 
their  limbs,  this  was  the  first  occasion  on  which  the  Kroo- 
man had  made  known  to  the  Arab  merchants  that  he  could 
speak  their  language. 

After  receiving  a  few  curses  and  blows  for  having  so  long 
concealed  his  knowledge  of  it,  the  slaves  were  unbound,  and 
the  animals  they  bestrode  were  driven  along  in  advance  of 
the  others,  while  the  two  hired  guards  were  ordered  to  keep 
a  short  watch  over  them. 

The  journey  was  continued  until  a  late  hour  of  the  night; 
when  they  reached  the  gate  of  a  high  wall  enclosing  a  small 
town. 

Here  a  long  parley  ensued,  and  at  first  the  party  seemed 
likely  to  be  turned  back  upon  their  steps  to  pass  the  night 
in  the  desert,  but  at  last  the  guardians  of  the  village,  being 
Batislied  with  the  representations  of  the  Arabs,  unbarred  the 
portals  and  let  them  enter. 

After  the  slaves  liad  been  conducted  inside,  and  the  gate 
fastened  behind  them,  their  masters,  relieved  of  all  anxiety 
about  losing  tlieir  property,  accei)ted  the  hospitality  of  the 
sheik  of  the  village,  and  took  their  departure  for  his  house^ 
directing  only  that  the  white  slaves  should  be  fed. 

After  the  latter  had  eateji  a  hearty  meal,  consisting  of 
barl«y-bread  and  milk  ;  thev  were  conducted  to  a  pen,  whlck 

13  S 


0  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

tliey  were  told  was  to  be  their  sleeping-plaf>e,  and  there  they 
passed  the  greater  part  of  tlie  night  in  fighting  fleas. 

Never  before  had  either  of  them  encountered  these  in 
8(!cts,  either  so  large  in  size  or  of  so  keen  appetites. 

It  was  but  at  the  hour  at  which  their  journey  should  have 
been  resumed,  that  they  forgot  their  hopes  and  cares  in  Ihe 
repose  of  sleep.  Weary  in  body  and  soul,  they  slept  on  till 
a  late  hour ;  and  when  aroused  to  consciousness  by  an  Arab 
bringing  some  food,  they  were  surprised  to  see  that  the  sun 
was  high  up  in  the  heavens. 

Why  had  they  not  been  awaliened  before  ? 

Why  this  delay  ? 

In  the  mind  of  each  was  an  instinctive  fear  that  there 
must  be  something  wrong,  —  that  some  other  obstacle  had 
arisen,  blocking  up  their  road  to  freedom.  Hours  passed, 
and  their  masters  came  not  near  them. 

They  remained  in  much  anxiety,  vainly  endeavoring  to 
fiurmise  wliat  had  caused  the  interruption  to  their  journey. 

Knowing  that  the  merchants  had  expressed  an  intention 
to  conduct  them  to  Mogador  as  soon  as  possible,  they  could 
not  doubt  but  what  the  delay  arose  from  some  cause  affect- 
ing their  own  welfare. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  they  were  visited  by  their  masters ; 
and  in  that  interview  their  \\orst  fears  were  more  than 
realized. 

By  the  aid  of  the  Krooman,  one  of  the  merchants  in- 
formed Harry  tliat  they  had  been  deceived,  —  that  the 
sheik,  of  whose  hospitality  they  had  been  partaking,  liad 
often  visited  Swearah,  and  was  acquainted  with  all  the  for- 
eign residents  there.  He  had  told  them  tliat  there  wa?  no 
one  of  the  name  "  For  God  sake  byas." 

He  had  assured  tliem  that  they  were  bi>iig  imposed  upon; 
and  that  Ly  taking  the  wliite  slaves  to  Swearah,  they  would 
certainly  lose  them. 

"  We  shall  not  kill  you,"  said  one  of  the  masters  to  Half 


nOl'E   DEFERRED.  291 

ry,  "for  wj  have  not  had  the  trouble  of  carrying  ydu  the 
whole  distance;  and  besides,  we  should  be  injuring  our- 
selves. We  shall  take  you  all  to  the  borders  of  the  desert, 
and  there  sell  you  for  what  you  v>'ill  fetch." 

Harj-y  told  the  Krooman  to  inform  his  masters  that  he 
hr*d  freely  pledged  his  existence  on  the  truth  of  the  story 
be  had  told  them ;  that  he  certainly  had  an  uncle  and  friend 
in  Mogador,  who  would  redeem  them  all ;  but  that,  should 
his  uncle  not  be  in  Swearah  at  the  time  they  should  arrive 
there,  it  would  make  no  difference,  as  they  would  certainly 
be  ransomed  by  the  English  Consul.  "  Tell  them,"  added 
Harry,  "  that  if  they  will  take  us  to  Swearah,  and  we  are 
not  ransomed  as  I  promised,  they  shall  be  welcome  to  take 
my  life.  I  will  then  willingly  die.  Tell  them  not  to  sell 
us  until  they  have  proved  my  words  false  ;  and  not  to  injure 
themselves  and  us  by  trusting  too  much  to  the  words  of 
another. 

To  this  communication  the  merchants  made  reply:  — 
That  they  had  been  told  that  slaves  brought  from  the  desert 
into  the  Empire  of  Morocco  could,  and  sometimes  did,  claim 
the  protection  of  the  government,  which  set  them  free  with- 
out paying  anything ;  and  those  who  were  at  the  expense 
of  bringing  them  obtained  nothing  for  their  trouble. 

One  of  the  merchants,  whose  name  was  Bo  Musem, 
seemed  inclined  to  listen  with  some  favor  to  the  representa- 
lions  of  Harry;  but  he  was  overruled  by  the  other  two,  so 
that  all  his  assertions  about  the  wealth  of  his  parents  at 
home,  and  the  immense  worth  he  and  his  comrades  were  to 
this  country,  as  officers  in  its  navy,  failed  to  convince  hia 
masters  that  they  would  be  redeemed. 

The  merchants  at  length  went  away,  leaving  Harry  and 
Colin  in  an  agcuy  of  despair;  while  Sailor  Bill  and  the 
Krooman  seemed  wholly  indifferent  as  to  their  future  fate. 
The  prospect  of  being  again  taken  to  the  desert,  seemed  to 
have  so  benumbed  the  intellect  of  both,  xs  to  leave  them 
incapable  of  emotion. 


292  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Hope,  fear^  and  energy  seemed  to  have  forsaken  the  old 
Bailor,  who,  usually  so  fond  of  thinkii_g  aloud,  had  not  now 
sufficient  spirit  left,  even  for  the  anathematizing  of  his  ene- 
mies. 


CHAPTER  LXXVII. 


LATE  in  the  evening  of  the  second  night  spent  within 
the  walls  of  the  town,  two  travellers  knocked  at  the 
gate  for  admittance. 

One  of  them  gave  a  name  which  created  quite  a  commo- 
tion in  the  village,  all  seeming  eager  to  receive  the  owner 
with  t-'ome  show  of  hospitality. 

The  merchants  sat  up  to  a  late  hour  in  company  with 
these  strangers  and  the  sheik  of  the  place.  Kids  were  caught 
and  killed,  and  a  savory  stew  was  soon  served  up  for  their 
guests,  while,  with  cofiee,  pipes,  and  many  customary  civili- 
ties, the  time  slipped  quickly  by. 

Notwithstanding  this,  they  were  astir  upon  the  following 
morning  before  daybreak,  busied  in  making  preparations  for 
their  journey. 

The  slaves,  on  being  allowed  some  breakfast,  were  com- 
manded to  eat  it  in  all  haste,  and  then  assist  in  preparing 
the  animals  for  the  road. 

They  were  also  informed  that  they  were  to  be  taken  south, 
and  sold. 

"  Shall  we  go,  or  die  ?  "  asked  Colin.  "  I,  for  one,  had 
rather  die  than  again  pass  through  the  hardships  of  a  jour- 
ney in  the  desert." 

Neither  of  the  others  made  any  reply  to  this.  The  spirit 
vf  despair  had  taken  too  strong  a  hold  upon  them. 


EL  HAJJI.  *J  3 

The  mercLants  themselves  were  obliged  ta  caparison  their 
(tnimals  ;  and  just  as  they  were  about  to  use  some  strong 
arguments  to  induce  their  refractory  slaves  to  mount,  they 
were  told  that  "  El  Hajji "  ("  the  pilgrim  ")  wished  to  see 
the  Cliristians. 

Soon  after,  one  of  the  strangers  who  had  entered  the  town 
so  late  on  the  night  before  was  seen  slowly  approaching. 

He  was  a  tall,  venerable-looking  Arab,  with  a  long  white 
beard  reaching  down  to  the  middle  of  his  breast.  His  cos- 
tume, by  its  neatness  and  the  general  costliness  of  the  arti- 
cles of  which  it  was  composed,  bespoke  him  a  man  of  the 
better  class,  and  his  bearing  was  nowise  inferior  to  his  guise. 

Having  performed  the  pilgrimage  to  the  Prophet's  Tomb, 
ne  commanded  the  respect  and  hospitality  of  all  good  Mus- 
sulmans whithersoever  he  wandered. 

With  the  Krooman  as  interpreter,  he  asked  many  ques- 
tions, and  seemed  to  be  much  interested  in  the  fate  of  the 
miserable-looking  objects  before  him. 

After  his  curiosity  had  been  satisfied  as  to  the  name  of 
the  vessel  in  which  they  had  reached  the  country,  the  time 
they  had  passed  in  slavery,  and  the  manner  of  their  treat- 
ment which  had  produced  their  emaciated  and  wretched 
appearance,  he  made  inquiries  about  their  friends  and  rela- 
tives at  home. 

Harry  informed  him  that  Colin  and  himself  had  parents, 
brothers,  and  sisters,  who  were  now  probably  mourning 
them  as  lost :  that  they  and  their  two  companions  were  sure 
to  be  ransomed,  could  they  find  some  one  who  would  take 
them  to  Mogadon  He  also  added,  that  their  present  mas- 
ters had  promised  to  take  them  to  that  place,  but  were  now 
prevented  from  doing  so  through  the  fear  that  they  (vould 
not  be  rewarded  for  their  trouble. 

"  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  assist  you,"  said  El  Hajji,  after  the 
Krooman  had  given  the  interpretation  of  Harry's  speech. 
"  I  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  one  of  your  countrymen,  ap<? 


ZdA  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

I  shaL  try  to  repay  it.  When  in  Cairo  I  was  unwell,  and 
starving  for  the  want  of  food.  An  officer  of  an  EngUsh  ship 
of  war  gave  me  a  coin  of  gold.  That  piece  of  money  proved 
>-cth  life  and  fortune  to  me;  for  with  it  I  was  able  to  con- 
t-nue  my  journey,  and  reach  ray  friends.  "We  are  all  the 
Ciiildren  of  the  true  God ;  and  it  is  our  duty  to  assist  one 
another.     I  will  have  a  talk  with  your  masters." 

The  old  pilgrim  then  turning  to  the  three  merchants, 
eaid,  — 

*'  My  friends,  you  have  promised  to  take  these  Christian 
slaves  to  Swearah,  where  they  will  be  redeemed.  Are  you 
bad  men  who  fear  not  God,  that  your  promise  should  be 
thus  broken  ?  " 

"  We  think  they  have  deceived  us,"  answered  one  of  the 
merchants,  "  and  we  are  afraid  to  carry  them  within  the 
emperor's  dominions  for  fear  they  will  be  taken  from  us 
without  our  receiving  anything.  We  are  poor  men,  and 
nearly  all  our  merchandise  we  have  given  for  these  slaves. 
We  cannot  afford  to  lose  them. 

"  You  will  not  lose  the  value  of  them,"  said  the  old  man, 
"  if  you  take  them  to  Swearah.  They  belong  to  a  country 
the  government  of  which  will  not  allow  its  subjects  to  re- 
main in  bondage  ;  and  there  is  not  an  English  merchant  m 
Swearah  that  would  not  redeem  them.  A  merchant  who 
should  refuse  to  do  so  would  scarce  dare  return  to  his  owa 
country  again.  You  will  make  more  by  taking  them  lo 
Swearah  than  anywhere  else." 

"  But  they  can  give  themselves  up  to  the  governor  when 
they  reach  Swearah,"  urged  one  of  the  merchants,  "  and  we 
may  be  ordered  out  of  the  country  without  receiving  a  sin- 
gle cowrie  for  all.  Such  has  been  done  before.  The  good 
sheik  here  knows  of  an  Arab  merchant  who  was  treated  so. 
He  bst  all,  while  the  governor  got  the  ransom,  and  put  it  in 
his  own  pocket." 

This  was  an  argument  El  Hajji  was  unable  to  answer 


EL  HAJJI.  295 

but  bo  was  not  long  In  finding  a  plan  for  removing  the  ilifDr 
culty  thus  presented. 

"  Do  not  take  them  within  the  Empire  of  Moiocco,"  said 
he,  "  until  after  you  have  been  paid  for  them.  Two  of  yoa 
can  stay  with  them  here,  while  the  other  goes  to  Sweai-ah 
with  a  letter  from  this  young  man  to  his  friends.  You  have 
as  yet  no  proof  that  he  is  trying  to  deceive  you  ;  and  the/e- 
fore,  as  true  men,  have  no  excuse  for  breaking  your  promise 
to  him.  Take  a  letter  to  Swearah  ;  and  if  the  money  be 
not  paid,  then  do  with  them  as  you  please,  and  the  ■wrong 
will  not  rest  upon  you." 

Bo  Muzem,  one  of  the  merchants,  immediately  seconded 
the  pilgrim's  proposal,  and  spoke  energetically  in  its  favor. 

lie  said  that  they  were  but  one  day's  journey  from  Aga- 
deez,  a  frontier  town  of  Morocco  ;  and  that  from  there 
Swearah  could  be  reached  in  three  days. 

The  merchants  for  a  few  minutes  held  consultation 
apart,  and  then  one  of  them  announced  that  they  had 
resolved  upon  following  El  Hajji's  advice.  Bo  Muzem 
should  go  to  Swearah  as  the  bearer  of  a  letter  from  Harry 
to  his  uncle. 

"Tell  the  young  man,"  said  one  of  the  merchants,  ad- 
dressing himself  to  the  interpreter,  "  tell  him,  from  me,  that 
if  the  ransom  be  not  paid,  he  shall  surely  die  on  Bo  Muzem'a 
return.     Tell  him  that." 

The  Krooman  made  the  communication,  and  Harry  ac- 
cepted th6  terms. 

A  piece  of  dirty  crumpled  paper,  a  reed,  and  some  ink 
was  then  placed  before  Harry  ;  and  while  the  letter  was  be- 
ing written.  Bo  Muzem  commenced  making  preparations  for 
his  journey. 

Knowing  that  their  only  hope  of  liberty  depended  on 
their  situation  being  made  known  to  some  countrymen  resi- 
dent in  Mogador,  Harry  took  up  the  pen,  and,  with  much 
difficulty,  succeeded  in  scribbling  the  following  letter :  — 


296  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

•'  Sir,  —  Two  midshipmen  of  H.  M.  S. (lost  a  fe^ 

weeks  ago  north  of  Cape  Blanco),  and  twc  seamen  are  novi 
held  in  slavery  at  a  small  town  one  day's  journey  from 
Santa  Cruz.  The  bearer  of  this  note  is  one  of  our  master? 
His  business  in  Mogador  is  to  learn  if  we  will  be  ransomed- 
and  if  he  is  unsuccessful  in  finding  any  one  who  will  pay  the 
money  to  redeem  us,  the  writer  of  this  note  is  to  be  killed 
If  you  cannot  or  will  not  pay  the  money  they  require  (one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  each  slave),  direct  the  bearer 
to  some  one  whom  you  think  will  do  so. 

"  There  is  a  midshipman  from  the  same  vessel,  and  an- 
other English  sailor  one  day's  journey  south  of  this  place. 

«  Perhaps  the  bearer  of  this  note,  Bo  IMuzem,  may  be  in- 
duced to  obtain  them,  so  that  they  also  may  be  ransomed. 

"Henry  Blount." 

This  letter  Harry  folded,  and  directed  to  "  Any  English 
merchant  in  Mogador." 

By  the  time  it  was  written.  Bo  Muzem  was  mounted,  and 
ready  for  the  road. 

After  receiving  the  letter,  he  wished  Harry  to  be  informed 
once  more,  that,  should  the  journey  to  Svvearah  be  fruitless, 
nothing  but  his  (Harry's)  life  would  compensate  liim  for  the 
disappointment. 

After  promising  to  be  back  in  eight  days,  and  enjoining 
upon  his  partners  to  look  well  after  their  property  during 
his  absence,  Bo  Muzem  took  his  departure  from  the  towru 


BO  >IUZEM'S  JOURNEY.  297 

CHAPTEK    LXXVIII. 

BO   MUZEJi's   JOUKNET. 

ALTHOUGH  an  Arab  merchant,  Bo  Muzem  was  an 
honest  man,  —  one  who  in  all  business  transaction? 
told  the  truth,  and  expected  to  hear  it  from  others. 

lie  pursued  his  journey  towards  Mogndor  with  but  a  faint 
hope  that  the  representations  made  by  Harry  Blount  would 
prove  true,  and  with  the  determination  of  taking  the  life  of 
the  latter,  should  he  find  himself  deceived.  He  placed 
more  faith  in  the  story  told  him  by  the  sheik,  than  in  the 
mere  supposition  of  the  pilgrim,  that  the  white  slaves  would 
find  some  one  to  ransom  them.  For  often,  —  alas  too 
often  !  —  the  hopes  which  captives  have  dwelt  on  for  tedioua 
months,  until  they  have  believed  them  true,  have  proved, 
when  put  to  the  test,  but  empty  and  follacious  dreams. 

His  journey  was  partly  undertaken  through  a  sense  of 
d;ity.  After  the  promise  made  to  the  slaves,  he  thought  it 
but  riglit  to  become  fully  convinced  that  they  would  not  be 
redeemed  before  the  idea  of  taking  them  to  Mogador  should 
be  relinquished. 

He  pressed  forward  on  his  journey  with  the  perseverance 
and  self-denial  so  peculiar  to  the  race.  After  crossing  the 
Bpurs  of  the  Atlas  Mountain  near  Santa  Cruz,  he  reached, 
on  the  evening  of  the  third  day,  a  small  walled  town,  within 
three  hours  ride  of  Mogador. 

Here  he  stopped  for  the  night,  intending  to  proceed  to 
the  city  early  on  the  next  morning.  Immediately  after  en- 
tering the  town,  Bo  Muzem  met  a  person  whose  face  wore 
a  familiar  look. 

It  was  the  man  to  whom  but  a  fev/  days  before,  he  had 
Bold  Terence  and  Jim. 

"Ah!  my  friend,  you  have  ruined  me,"  exclaimed  th« 
13* 


298  THE  BOY  SLAVES- 

Arab  grazier,  after  their  first  salutations  had  passed.  "1 
have  lost  those  two  useless  Christian  dogs  you  sold  me,  and 
I  am  ruined." 

Bo  INIuzeni  asked  him  to  explain. 

"  After  your  departure,"  said  the  grazier,  "  I  tried  to  get 
some  work  out  of  the  infidels  ;  but  they  would  not  obey,  and 
T  believe  they  would  have  died  before  doing  anything  to 
make  themselves  useful.  As  I  am  a  poor  man,  I  could  not 
afford  to  keep  them  in  idleness,  nor  to  kill  them,  which  I 
had  a  strong  inclination  to  do.  The  day  after  you  left  me, 
I  received  intelligence  from  Swearah  which  commanded  me 
to  go  there  immediately  on  business  of  importance ;  and 
thinking  that  possibly  some  Christian  fool  in  that  place  might 
give  sonieihing  for  their  infidel  countrymen,  I  took  the  slaves 
alon-g  with  me. 

"  They  promised  that  if  I  would  take  them  to  the  Eng- 
lish Consul,  he  would  pay  a  large  price  for  their  ransom. 
When  we  entered  Mogador,  and  reached  the  Consul's  house, 
the  dogs  told  me  that  they  were  free,  and  defied  me  trying 
to  take  them  out  of  the  city,  or  obtaining  anything  for  my 
trouble  or  expense.  The  governor  of  Swearah  and  the  Em- 
peror of  Morocco  are  on  good  terms  with  the  infidel's  gov- 
ernment, and  they  also  hate  us  Arabs  of  the  desert.  There 
is  no  justice  there  for  us.  If  you  take  your  slaves  into  the 
city  you  wUl  lose  them." 

"  I  shall  not  take  them  into  the  empire  of  Morocco,"  said 
Bo  Muzem,  "until  I  have  first  received  the  money  for 
them." 

"  You  will  never  get  it  in  Swearah.  Their  consul  will  not 
pay  a  dollar,  but  will  try  to  get  them  liberated  without  giv- 
i\g  you  anytliing." 

**  But  1  iiave  a  letter  from  one  of  my  slaves  to  his  uncle, 
—  a  nut  merchant  in  Swearah.  The  uncle  must  pay  the 
money." 

*'  The  slave  has  lied  to  you.     He  has  no  uncle  there,  and 


»0  MUZEM'S  JOUKNEY.  299 

I  can  soon  convince  you  that  such  is  the  casfc>  There  is 
lying  in  this  place  a  Mogador  Jew,  who  is  acquainted  with 
every  infidel  merchant  in  that  place,  and  he  also  understands 
the  languages  they  speak.     Let  him  see  the  letter." 

Anxious  to  be  convinced  as  to  whether  he  was  being  de- 
ceived or  not,  Bo  Muzem  readily  agreed  to  this  proposition ; 
and  in  company  with  the  graziers,  he  repaired  to  the  house 
where  the  Jew  was  staying  for  t!ie  night. 

The  Jew,  on  being  shown  the  letter,  and  asked  to  whom 
it  was  addressed,  replied.  — 

"To  any  English  merchant  in  Mogador." 

"  Bismillah  !  "  exclaimed  Bo  Muzem.  "  All  English 
merchants  cannot  be  uncles  to  the  young  dog  who  wrote  tin's 
letter." 

"  Tell  me,"  added  he,  "  did  you  ever  hear  of  an  English 
merchant  in  Swearah  named  '  For  God  sake  byas?'  " 

The  Jew  smiled,  and  with  some  difficulty  restraining  an  in- 
clination to  laugh  outright  at  the  question,  gave  the  Ai-ab  a 
translation  of  the  words,  "  For  God's  sake  buy  us." 

Bo  Muzem  was  now  satisfied  that  he  had  been  "  sold." 

"  I  shall  go  no  farther,"  said  he,  after  they  had  parted 
with  the  Jew.  "  I  shall  return  to  my  partners.  We  will 
kill  the  Christian  dog  who  wrote  the  letter,  and  sell  the  rest 
for  what  we  can  get  for  tliera." 

"  That  is  your  best  plan,"  rejoined  the  grazier.  "  They 
do  not  deserve  freedom,  and  may  Allah  forbid  that  hereafter 
any  true  believers  should  try  to  help  them  to  it." 

Early  the  next  morning  Bo  IMuzem  set  out  on  his  return 
journey,  thankful  for  the  good  fortune  that  had  enabled  him 
so  early  to  detect  the  imposture  that  was  being  practised 
upon  him. 

He  was  accompanied  by  the  grazier,  who  chanced  to  be 
journeying  in  the  same  direction. 

"  The  next  Christian  slave?5  I  see  for  sale  I  intend  to  buy 
iliem,"  remarked  the  latter,  as  they  journey(;d  alon^. 


800  THE  BOY  SLAVES 

«  Bismallali ! "  exclaimed  Bo  Muzem,  "  that  is  stranga 
I  thought  you  had  had  ent^gh  of  them  ?  " 

"  So  I  have,"  answered  the  grazier  ;  "  but  that 's  just  why 
I  want  more  of  them.  I  want  revenge  on  the  unbelieving 
dogs  ;  and  will  buy  them  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  it.  I 
work  them  until  they  are  too  old  to  do  anything,  and  then 
let  them  die  of  hunger." 

"  Then  buy  those  we  have  for  sale,"  proposed  Bo  Muzem. 
We  are  willing  to  sell  them  clieap,  all  but  one.  The  one 
who  wrote  this  letter  I  shall  kill.  I  have  sworn  it  by  the 
prophet's  beard." 

As  both  parties  appeared  anxious  for  a  bargain,  they  soon 
came  to  an  understanding  as  to  the  terms  ;  and  the  grazier 
promised  to  give  ten  dollars  in  money,  and  four  head  of 
torses  for  each  of  the  slaves  that  were  for  sale.  He  also 
agreed  that  one  of  his  herdsmen  should  assist  in  driving  the 
cattle  to  any  Arab  settlement  where  a  market  might  be 
found  for  them. 

The  simple  Bo  Muzem  had  now  in  reality  been  "  sold," 
for  the  story  he  had  been  told  about  the  escape  of  the  two 
slaves,  Terence  and  Jim,  was  wholly  and  entirely  false. 


CHAPTER    LXXIX 

RAIS    MODRAD. 

SIX  days  i)assed,  during  which  the  white  slaves  were 
comparatively  well  treated,  far  better  than  at  any  otlier 
time  since  their  shipwreck.  They  were  not  allowed  to  suffer 
with  tliirst,  and  were  supplied  with  nearly  as  much  food  as 
they  required. 

On  the  sixth  day  after  the  departure  of  Bo  Muzem,  tbej 


RAIS  MOURAD.  801 

were  visited  by  their  masters,  accompanied  by  a  stranger 
who  was  a  Moor. 

They  were  commanded  to  get  upon  their  feet  and  were 
then  examined  by  the  Moor  in  a  manner  that  awakened 
suspicion  that  he  was  about  to  buy  them. 

The  Moor  wore  a  caftan  richly  Sinbroidered  on  the  breast 
and  sleeves ;  and  confined  around  the  waist  with  a  silken 
vest  or  girdle. 

A  pair  of  small  yellow  Morocco-leather  boots  were  seen 
beneath  trowsers  of  great  width,  made  of  the  finest  satin, 
and  on  his  head  was  worn  a  turban  of  scarlet  sUk. 

Judging  from  the  respect  shown  to  him  by  the  merchants, 
he  was  an  individual  of  much  importance.  This  was  also 
evident  from  the  number  of  his  followers,  all  of  whom  were 
mounted  on  beautiful  Arabian  horses,  the  trappings  of 
which  were  made  from  the  finest  and  most  delicately  shaded 
leathers,  bestudded  beautifully  with  precious  metals  and 
stones. 

The  appearance  of  his  whole  retinue  gave  evidence  that 
he  was  some  personage  of  wealth  and  influence. 

After  he  had  examined  the  slaves,  he  retired  with  the  two 
merchants ;  and  shortly  afterwards  the  Krooman  learnt  from 
one  of  the  followers  that  the  white  slaves  had  become  the 
property  of  the  wealthy  Moor. 

The  bright  anticipations  of  liberty  that  had  filled  their 
souls  for  the  last  few  days,  vanished  at  this  intelligence. 
Each  felt  a  shock  of  pain,  —  of  hopeless  despair,  —  that  for 
some  moments  stunned  them  almost  to  speechlessness. 

Harry  Blount  was  the  first  to  awaken  to  the  necessity  of 
action. 

"  Where  are  our  masters  the  merchants  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  They  cannot  —  they  shall  not  sell  us.  Come,  all  of  you 
follow  me ! " 

Reaching  forth  from  the  pens  that  had  been  allowed  them 
for  a  residence,  the  young  Englishman,  followed  by  !  is  com 


802  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

panions,  started  towards  the  dwelling  of  the  sheik,  to  whicli 
the  merchants  and  the  IMoor  had  retired. 

All  were  now  excited  with  disappointment  and  despair; 
and  on  reaching  the  sheik's  house,  the  two  Arab  merchants 
were  called  out  to  witness  a  scene  of  anger  and  grief 

"  Why  have  you  sold  us  ?  "  asked  the  Krooman  when  the 
merchant  came  forth.  "  Have  you  not  promised  that  we 
should  be  taken  to  Swearah,  and  has  not  one  gone  there  to 
obtain  the  money  for  our  ransom  ?  " 

The  merchants  were  on  good  terms  with  themselves  and 
all  the  world  besides.  They  had  made  what  they  believed 
to  be  a  good  bargain ;  and  were  in  a  humor  for  being  agree- 
able. 

Moreover  they  did  not  wish  to  be  thought  guilty  of  a 
wrong,  even  by  Christian  slaves,  and  they  therefore  conde- 
scended to  give  some  explanation. 

"  Suppose,"  said  one  of  them,  "  that  our  master  Bo  Muzem 
should  find  a  man  in  Swearah  who  is  willing  to  ransom  you, 
how  much  are  we  to  get  for  you?" 

"  One  hundred  dollars  for  me,"  answered  the  Krooman, 
"  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  for  each  of  the  others." 

"  True  ;  and  for  that  we  should  have  to  take  you  to 
Swearah,  and  be  at  the  expense  of  feeding  you  along  the 
road?" 

"  Yes." 

"Well,  Rais  Mourad,  a  wealthy  Moor,  has  paid  us  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  each  of  you ;  and  would  we  not 
be  fools  to  take  you  all  the  way  to  Swearah  for  less  money  ? 
Besides  we  miglit  never  get  paid  at  Swearah,  —  whereas  we 
Lave  received  it  in  cash  from  Rais  Mourad.  You  are  no 
longer  our  slaves,  but  his." 

When  tlie  Krooman  had  made  this  communication  to  the 
others,  tliey  saw  that  all  further  parley  with  the  Arab  mer- 
chants was  useleos  ;  and  that  their  fate  was  now  in  the  handi 
oi"  Rais  Moura^l. 


RAIS  MOU^AD.  303 

At  Harry's  request,  the  Krooman  endeavored  to  ascertain 
in  what  direction  the  Moor  was  going  to  take  tliem ;  but  the 
only  information  they  received  was  that  Rais  Mourad  knew 
his  own  business,  and  was  not  in  the  habit  of  conferring  with 
his  slaves  as  to  what  he  should  do  with  them. 

Some  of  the  followers  of  the  Moor  now  came  forward ; 
and  the  slaves  were  ordered  back  to  their  pen,  where  they 
found  some  food  awaiting-  them.  They  were  commanded  to 
eat  it  immediately,  as  they  were  soon  to  set  forth  upon  a 
long  journey. 

Not  one  of  them,  aftei  their  cruel  disappointment,  had 
any  appetite  for  eating  ;  and  Sailor  Bill  doggedly  declared 
that  he  would  never  ta>te  food  again. 

"  Don't  despair,  Bill,"  said  Harry ;  "  there  is  yet  hope 
for  us." 

"  Where  ?  —  where  i.-5  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Colin  ;  "  I  can  't 
perceive  it." 

"  If  we  are  constantly  changing  ow^ners,"  argued  Harry, 
'  we  may  yet  fall  into  the  hands  of  some  one  who  will  take 
as  to  Mogador." 

"  Is  that  your  only  hope  ?  "  asked  Colin,  in  a  tone  of  dis- 
ftppointment. 

"  Think  of  poor  Jim,"  added  Bill ;  he  's  'ad  fifty  masters, 
—  been  ten  years  in  slavery,  and  not  free  yet ;  and  no  hope 
Ml  it  neyther." 

"  Shall  we  go  quietly  with  our  new  master  ? "  asked 
Colin. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Harry  ;  "  I  have  had  quite  enough  of 
resistance,  and  the  beating  that  is  sure  to  follow  it.  My 
back  is  raw  at  this  moment.  The  next  time  I  malve  any 
resistance,  it  shall  be  when  there  is  a  chance  of  gaining 
lomelhing  by  it,  besides  a  sound  thrashing." 

Rias  Mourad  being  unprovided  with  animals  for  his  slaves 
io  ride  upon,  and  wishing  to  travel  at  a  greater  speed  thau 
they  could  walk,  purchased  four  small  hcrses  from  the  sheik 


804  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

«nd  it  was  during  the  time  these  horses  were  being  ca  ight 
and  made  ready  for  the  road,  that  the  slaves  were  allowed 
to  eat  their  dinner. 

Although  Harry,  as  well  as  the  others,  had  determined 
on  making  no  opposition  to  going  away  with  Rias  Mourad, 
they  were  very  anxious  to  learn  where  he  intended  to  take 
them. 

All  the  inquiries  made  by  the  Krooman  for  the  purpose 
of  gratifying  their  curiosity,  only  produced  the  answer, 
«  God  knows,  and  will  not  tell  you.  Why  should  we  do  more 
than  Him  ?  " 

Just  as  the  horses  were  brought  out,  and  all  were  nearly 
ready  for  a  start,  there  was  heard  a  commotion  at  the  gate 
of  the  town ;  and  next  moment  Bo  ]\Iuzem,  accompanied  by 
three  other  Arabs,  rode  in  through  the  gateway. 


CHAPTER    LXXX. 

BO    MUZEM    BACK    AGAIN. 

AS  soon  as  the  white  slaves  recognized  Bo  Muzem,  tliey 
all  rushed  forward  to  meet  him. 

"  Speak,  Krooman  ! "  exclaimed  Harry.  *'  Ask  him  if  the 
money  for  our  ransom  will  he  paid  ?  If  so,  we  are  free,  and 
they  dare  not  sell  us  again." 

"  Here,  —  here  ! "  exclaimed  Bill,  pointing  to  one  of  the 
Arabs  who  came  with  Bo  Muzem.  "  Ax  this  man  where 
be  brother  Jim  an'  Master  Terence  ?" 

Harry  and  Colin  turned  towards  the  man  from  whom  Bill 
desired  this  inquiry  to  be  made,  and  recognized  in  him  the 
grazier,  to  whom  Terence  and  Jim  had  been  sold. 

The  Krooman  had  no  opportunity  for  putting  the  ques- 


BO  MUZEM  BACK  AGAIN.  80« 

iaon ;  for  Bo  Muzem,  on  dra^ving  near  to  the  gate  of  the 
town,  had  allowed  his  passion  to  mount  into  a  violent  rage ; 
and  as  he  beheld  the  slaves,  shouted  out,  "  Christian  dogs  1 
you  have  deceived  me.  Let  every  man,  woman,  and  child, 
in  this  town  assemble,  and  be  witnesses  of  the  fate  that  this 
lying  Christian  so  richly  deserves.  Lst  all  witness  the  death 
of  this  young  infidel,  who  has  falsely  declared  he  has  an 
uncle  in  Swearah,  named  '  For  God's  sake  buy  us.'  Let  all 
witness  the  revenge  Bo  Muzem  will  take  on  the  unbelieving 
dog  Avho  has  deceived  him." 

As  soon  as  Bo  Muzem's  tongue  was  stopped  sufficiently 
to  enable  him  to  hear  the  voices  of  those  around  him,  he 
was  informed  that  the  slaves  were  all  sold,  —  the  nephew 
of  "  For  God's  sake  buy  us,"  among  the  rest,  and  on  better 
terms  than  he  and  his  partners  had  expected  to  get  at 
Swearah. 

Had  Harry  Blount  been  rescued.  Bo  Muzem  would  have 
been  much  pleased  at  this  news ;  but  he  now  declared  that 
his  partners  had  no  right  to  sell  without  his  concurrence, — 
that  he  owned  an  interest  in  them ;  and  that  the  one  who 
had  deceived  him  should  not  be  sold,  but  should  suffer  the 
penalty  incurred,  by  sending  him  on  his  long  and  fruitless 
journey. 

Rais  Mourad  now  came  upon  the  ground.  The  Moor  was 
not  long  in  comprehending  all  the  circumstances  connected 
?7ith  the  afHiir.  He  ordered  his  followers  to  gather  around 
Ahe  whiie  slaves  and  escort  them  outside  the  walls  of  the  town. 

Bo  ]\Iuzem  attempted  to  prevent  this  order  from  being 
executed.  He  was  opposed  by  everybody,  not  only  by  the 
Moor,  but  his  own  partners,  as  well  as  the  sheik  of  the  town, 
who  declared  that  there  should  be  no  blood  spilled  among 
those  partaking  of  his  hospitality. 

The  slaves  were  mounted  on  the  horses  that  had  been 
provided  for  them,  and  then  conducted  through  the  gateway 
Heaving  Bo  JMuzem  half  frantic  with  impotent  rage. 

r 


806  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

There  was  but  one  man  to  sympathize  with  him  in  hit 
disappointment,  the  grazier  to  whom  Terence  and  Jim 
had  been  sold,  and  who  had  made  arrangements  for  the  pur- 
chase of  the  otliers. 

Riding  up  to  the  Moor,  tliis  man  declared  that  the  slaves 
were  his  property ;  that  he  had  purchased  them  the  day  be- 
fore, and  had  given  four  horses  and  ten  dollars  in  money  for 
each. 

He  loudly  protested  against  being  robbed  of  his  property, 
and  declared  that  he  would  bring  two  hundred  men,  if  nec- 
essary, for  the  purpose  of  taking  possession  of  his  own. 

Rais  Mourad,  paying  no  attention  to  this  threat,  gave  or- 
ders to  his  followers  to  move  on  ;  and,  although  it  was  now 
almost  night,  started  off  in  the  direction  of  Santa  Cruz. 

Before  they  had  proceeded  far,  they  perceived  the  Arab 
grazier  riding  at  full  speed  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  to- 
wards his  own  home. 

"  I  wish  that  we  had  made  some  inquiries  of  that  fellow 
about  Jim  and  Terence,"  said  Colin;  "but  it's  too  late 
now." 

"  Yes,  too  late,"  echoed  Harry,  "  and  I  wish  that  he  had 
obtained  possession  of  us  instead  of  our  present  master.  We 
should  then  have  all  come  together  again.  But  what  are 
we  to  think  of  this  last  turn  of  Fortune's  wheel  ?  " 

"  I  am  rather  pleased  at  it,"  answered  Colin.  "  A  while 
ago  we  were  in  despair,  because  the  IMoor  had  bought  us. 
That  was  a  mistake.  If  he  had  not  done  so,  you  Harry 
would  have  been  killed." 

"  Bill !  "  added  the  young  Scotchman,  turning  to  the  old 
Bailor,  "  what  are  you  dreaming  about  ?  " 

"Nothing,"  answered  Bill,  "I'm  no  goin  to  drame  or 
think  any  mair." 

"  We  ah  gwine  straight  for  Swearah,"  observed  the  Kroo* 
man  as  he  spoke,  glancing  towards  the  northwest 

"  That  is  true,"  exclaimed  Harry,  looking  in  the  same  d> 


BO   MUZEM  BACK  AGAIN.  307 

reo.tion.  "  Can  it  be  that  we  are  to  be  taken  into  the  em- 
pire of  Morocco?     If  so,  tliere  is  hope  for  us  yet/' 

"  But  Bo  Muzem  could  find  no  one  who  would  pay  iho 
money  for  our  ransom,"  interposed  Colin. 

"  He  nebba  go  thar,"  said  the  Krooman.  "  He  nebba 
Lad  de  time." 

"  I  believe  the  Krooman  is  right,"  said  Harry.  "  "We 
have  been  told  that  Mogador  is  four  days'  journey  from  here, 
and  the  Arab  was  gone  but  six  days." 

The  conversation  of  the  slaves  was  interrupted  by  the 
Moors,  who  kept  constantly  urging  them  to  greater  speed. 

The  night  came  on  very  dark,  but  Rais  Mourad  would 
not  allow  them  to  move  at  a  slower  pace. 

Sailor  Bill,  being  as  he  declared  unused  to  "  navigate  any 
sort  o'  land  craft,"  could  only  keep  his  seat  on  the  animal 
he  bestrode,  by  allowing  it  to  follow  the  others,  while  he 
clutched  its  mane  with  a  firm  grasp  of  both  hands. 

The  journey  was  continued  until  near  midnight,  when  the 
old  sailor,  unable  any  longer  to  endure  the  fatigue,  managed 
to  check  the  pace  of  his  horse,  and  dismount. 

The  Moors  endeavored  to  make  him  proceed,  but  were 
unsuccessful. 

Bill  declared  that  should  he  again  be  placed  on  the  horse, 
he  should  probably  fall  off  and  break  his  neck. 

This  was  communicated  to  Rais  Mourad,  who  had  turned 
back  in  a  rage  to  inquire  tlie  cause  of  the  delay.  It  was 
the  Krooman  who  acted  as  interpreter. 

The  Moor's  anger  immediately  subsided  on  learning  that 
one  of  the  slaves  could  speak  Arabic. 

"  Do  you  and  your  companions  wish  for  freedom  ?  "  asked 
the  Moor,  addressing  himself  to  the  Krooman. 

"  We  pray  for  it  every  hour." 

"  Then  tell  that  foolish  man  that  freedom  is  not  founil 
here  —  that  to  obtain  it  he  must  move  on  with  me." 

The  Krooman  made  the  communication  as  desired. 


308  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  more  about  freedom,'  answered 
Bill ;  "  I  Ve  'eard  enough  ov  it.  If  any  on  'em  is  goin'  to 
giTB  us  a  chiuica  for  liberty,  let  'em  do  it  without  so  many 
promises." 

The  old  sailor  remained  obstinate. 

Neither  entreaties  nor  threats  could  induce  him  to  go 
farther ;  and  Rais  Mourad  gave  orders  to  his  followers  to 
halt  upon  the  spot,  as  he  intended  to  stay  there  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  night.  The  halt  was  accordingly  made,  and 
a  temporary  camp  established. 

Although  exhausted  with  their  long,  rough  ride,  Harry 
and  Colin  could  not  sleep.  The  hope  of  liberty  was  glowing 
too  brightly  within  their  bosoms. 

This  hope  had  not  been  inspired  by  anything  that  had 
been  said  or  done  by  Rais  Mourad ;  for  they  now  placed  no 
trust  in  the  promises  of  any  one. 

Their  hopes  were  simply  based  upon  the  belief  that  they 
were  now  going  towards  Mogador,  that  the  Moor,  their  mas- 
ter, was  an  intelligent  man  —  a  man  who  might  know  that 
he  would  not  lose  his  money  by  taking  English  subjects  to  a 
place  where  they  would  be  sure  of  being  ransomed. 


CHAPTER    LXXXI. 

A   PURSUIT. 

AT  the  first  appearance  of  day,  Rais  Mourad  ordered 
the  march  to  be  resumed,  over  a  long  ridge  of  sand. 
The  sun  soon  after  rising,  on  a  high  hill  about  four  leagues 
distant  were  seen  the  white  walls  of  the  city  of  Santa  Cruz, 
or,  as  it  is  called  by  the  Arabs,  Agadez.  Descending  tha 
«and  ridge,  the  cavaliade  moved  over  a  level  plain  covered 


A  PURSUIT.  309 

«ich  grain  crops,  and  dotted  here  and  there  with  small  walled 
villagea  surrounded  by  plantations  of  vines  and  date-trees. 

At  one  of  the  villages  near  the  road  the  cavalcade  mad<» 
a  halt,  and  was  admitted  withm  the  walls.  Throwing  them 
selves  down  in  the  shade  of  some  date-trees,  the  white  slaves 
soon  fell  into  a  sound  slumber. 

Three  hours  after  they  were  awakened  to  eat  a  small  com- 
pound of  hot  barley-cakes  and  honey. 

Before  they  had  finished  their  repast,  Eais  Mourad  came 
up  to  the  spot,  and  began  a  conversation  with  the  Krooman. 
"  What  does  the  Moor  say  ?  "  inquired  Harry. 
"  He  say  dat  if  we  be  no  bad,  and  we  no  cheat  him,  he 
take  us  to  Sweareh,  to  de  English  Consul." 

"  Of  course  we  will  promise  that,  or  anything  else,"  as- 
sented Harry,  "  and  keep  the  promise  too,  if  we  can.  He 
will  be  sure  to  be  well  paid  for  us.     Tell  him  that ! " 

The  Krooman  obeyed :  and  the  Moor,  in  reply,  said  that 
he  was  well  aware  that  he  would  be  paid  something  by  the 
Consul,  but  that  he  required  a  written  promise  from  the 
slaves  themselves  as  to  the  amount. 

He  wanted  them  to  sign  an  agreement  that  he  should  be 
paid  two  hundred  dollars  for  each  one  of  them. 

This  they  readily  assented  to,  and  the  Moor  then  pro- 
duced a  piece  of  paper,  a  reed,  and  some  ink. 

llais  Mourad  wrote  the  agi-eement  himself  in  Arabic,  on 
one  side  of  the  paper,  and  then,  reading  it  sentence  by  sen- 
tence, requested  the  Krooman  to  translate  it  to  his  com- 
panions. 

The  translation  given  by  the  Krooman  was  — 

«  To  English  Consul,  — 

"  We  be  four  Christian  slave.  Rais  IMourad  buy  us  of 
Arab.  We  promise  to  gib  him  two  hundred  dollar  for  one, 
or  eight  hundred  dollar  for  four,  if  he  take  us  to  you.  Pleafifl 
pay  him  quick." 


810  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

Harry  and  Colin  signed  the  paper  without  any  hesitation! 
and  it  was  thou  handed  with  t)ie  pen  to  Sailer  Bill. 

The  old  sailor  took  the  paper ;  and,  after  carefully  sur- 
veying every  object  around  him,  walked  up  to  one  of  the 
saddles  lying  on  the  ground  a  few  paces  off. 

Spreading  the  paper  on  the  saddle,  he  sat  down,  and  very 
delibei-ately  set  about  the  task  of  making  his  autograph. 

Slowly  as  the  hand  of  a  clock  moving  over  the  face  of  a 
dial,  Bill's  hand  passed  over  the  paper,  while  his  head  oscil- 
lated from  side  to  side  as  each  letter  was  formed. 

After  Bill  had  succeeded  in  painting  a  few  characters 
which,  in  his  opinion,  expressed  the  name  of  William  Mo 
Neal,  Harry  was  requested  to  write  a  similar  agi'eement  ojf 
the  other  side  of  the  paper,  which  they  wei-e  also  to  sign. 

Rais  Mourad  was  determined  on  being  certain  that  his 
slaves  had  put  their  names  to  such  an  agreement  as  he 
wished,  and  therefore  had  written  it  himself,  so  that  he 
might  not  be  deceived. 

About  two  hours  before  sunset  all  were  again  in  the  sad- 
dle ;  and,  riding  out  of  the  gateway,  took  a  path  leading  up 
the  mountain  on  which  stands  the  city  of  Santa  Cruz. 

When  about  half-way  up,  a  party  of  horsemen,  between 
twenty  and  thirty  in  number,  was  seen  coming  after  them  at 
full  speed. 

Rais  Mourad  remembered  the  threat  made  by  the  grazier 
who  claimed  the  slaves  as  his  property,  and  every  exertion 
was  made  to  reach  the  city  before  his  party  could  be  over 
taken. 

The  horses  ridden  by  the  white  slaves  were  small  ani. 
n)als,  in  poor  condition,  and  were  unable  to  move  up  the 
hill  with  much  speed,  although  their  ridors  had  been  reduced 
by  starvation  to  the  very  lightest  of  weights. 

Before  reaching  tlie  level  i)lain  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  the 
pursuers  gained  on  them  rapidly,  and  had  lessened  the  dis- 
tance between  the  two  parties  by  nearly  half  a  mile.     The 


A  PURSUIT.  311 

ftearust  gate  of  the  city  was  still  more  than  a  mile  ahead, 
and  towards  it  the  Moors  urq;ed  tlieir  horses  with  all  the 
energy  that  could  be  insjiired  by  oaths,  kicks,  and  blows. 

As  they  neared  the  gate  the  herds  of  their  pursuers  were 
Been  just  rising  over  the  crest  of  the  hill  behind  them.  But 
as  Rais  Mourad  saw  that  his  slaves  were  now  safe,  he 
checked  his  steed,  and  the  few  yards  that  remained  of  the 
journey  were  performed  at  a  slow  pace,  for  the  IMoor  did  not 
wish  to  enter  the  gate  of  a  strange  city  in  a  hasty  or  undig- 
nified manner. 

No  delay  on  passing  the  sentinels,  and  in  five  minutes 
more  the  weary  slaves  dismounted  from  their  nearly  ex- 
hausted steeds,  and  were  commanded  by  Rais  Mourad  to 
thank  God  that  they  had  arrived  safe  in  the  Empire  of 
Morocco. 

In  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  Bo  Muzem  and 
the  grazier  rode  through  the  gateway,  accompanied  by  a 
troop  of  fierce-looking  Arab  horsemen. 

The  wrath  of  the  merchant  seemed  to  have  waxed  greater 
in  the  interval,  and  he  appeared  as  if  about  to  make  an  im- 
mediate attack  upon  Harry  Blount,  the  chief  object  of  his 
spiteful  vengeance. 

In  this  he  was  prevented  by  Rais  Mourad,  who  appealed 
to  an  officer  of  the  city  guard  to  protect  him. 

The  officer  informed  the  merchant  that  while  within  the 
v/alls  of  the  city  he  must  not  molest  other  people,  and  Bo 
Muzem  was  compelled  to  give  his  word  that  he  would  not 
do  so :  that  is  to  say,  he  was  bound  over  to  keep  the  peace. 

The  other  Arabs,  in  wliose  company  they  had  come,  were 
also  given  to  understand  that  they  were  in  a  Moorish  city , 
and,  as  they  saw  that  they  were  powerless  to  do  harm  with- 
out meeting  with  punisliment,  their  fierce  deportment  soon 
gave  way  to  a  demeanor  more  befitting  the  streets  of  a 
civilized  town. 

Both  pursued  and  ptirsuers  were  cautioned  againuf  any 


812  THE  BOY   SLAVES. 

infringement  of  the  laws  of  the  place ;  and  as  a  different  quai"' 
ter  was  assigned  to  each  party,  all  chances  of  a  conllict  were 
for  the  time,  happily  frustrated. 


CHAPTER    LXXXII. 

MOORISH   JUSTICE. 

rriHE  next  morning,  Rais  Monrad  was  summoned  to 
■  appear  before  the  governor  of  the  city.  He  was  or- 
dered, also,  to  bring  his  slaves  along  with  him.  He  had  no 
reluctance  in  obeying  these  orders,  and  a  soldier  conducted 
him  and  his  followers  to  the  governor's  house. 

Bo  Muzem  and  the  grazier  were  there  before  them ;  and 
the  governor  soon  after  made  his  appearance  in  the  room 
where  botli  parlies  were  waiting. 

He  was  a  fine-looking  man,  of  venerable  aspect,  about  six- 
ty-five years  of  age,  and,  from  his  appearance,  Harry  and 
Colin  had  but  little  fear  of  the  result  of  his  decision  in  an 
appeal  that  might  be  made  against  them. 

Bo  Muzem  was  the  first  to  speak.  He  stated  that,  in 
partnership  with  two  other  merchants,  he  had  purchased  the 
four  slaves  then  present.  He  had  never  given  his  consent 
to  the  sale  made  by  his  partners  to  the  Moor ;  and  there 
was  one  of  them  whom  it  had  been  distinctly  understood 
was  not  to  be  sold  at  all.  That  slave  lie  now  claimed  as  his 
own  projierty.  He  had  been  commissioned  by  his  pai-tners 
to  go  to  Swearah,  and  there  dispose  of  the  slaves.  He  had 
sold  the  other  two  to  his  friend  Mahommed,  who  was  pres. 
ent.  He  had  no  claim  on  them.  Mahommed,  the  grazier 
was  their  present  owner. 

The  grazier  was  now  called  upon  to  make  his  statement. 


MOORISH  JUSTICK  313 

This  was  soon  done.  All  he  had  to  say  was,  thr.t  he  had 
purchased  three  Christian  slaves  from  his  friend,  Bo  Muzem, 
and  had  given  four  horses  and  ten  dollars  in  money  for  each 
of  them.  They  had  heen  taken  away  by  force  by  the  Moor, 
Rais  Monrad,  fi-om  whom  he  now  claimed  them. 

Ilais  Monrad  was  next  called  upon  to  answer  the  accusa- 
tion. The  question  was  put,  why  he  retained  possession  of 
another  man's  property. 

In  reply,  he  stated  that  he  had  purchased  them  of  two 
Arab  merchants,  and  had  paid  for  them  on  the  spot ;  giving 
one  hundred  and  filty  silver  dollars  for  each. 

After  the  Moor  had  finished  his  statement,  the  governor 
remained  silent  for  an  interval  of  two  or  three  minutes. 

Presently,  turning  to  Bo  Muzem,  he  asked,  "  Did  your 
partners  offer  you  a  share  of  the  money  they  received  for 
the  slaves  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  merchant,  "  but  I  would  not  accept 
it." 

"  Have  you,  or  your  partners,  received  from  the  man,  who 
clain^.s  three  of  the  slaves,  twelve  horses  and  thirty  dol- 
lars ?  " 

After  some  hesitation,  Bo  Muzem  answered  in  the  nega- 
tive. 

''  The  slaves  belong  to  the  Moor,  Rais  Mourad,  who  has 
paid  the  money  for  them,"  said  the  governor,  "  and  they  shall 
not  ]»e  taken  liom  him  here.  Depart  from  my  presence,  all 
of  you." 

All  retired,  and,  as  they  did  so,  the  grazier  was  heard  to 
rauiter  that  there  was  no  justice  for  Arabs  in  Morocco. 

Ilais  Mourad  gave  orders  to  his  followers  to  prepare  for 
the  road  ;  and  just  as  they  were  ready  to  start,  he  request- 
ed Bo  Muzem  to  accompany  him  outside  the  walls  of  the 
city. 

The  merchant  consented,  on  condition  that  his  friend  Ma- 
hommed  the  grazier  should  go  along  with  them. 
14 


814  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

"  My  friend,"  said  Rais  Mourad,  addressing  Bo  IMuzem, 
**  you  have  been  deceived.  Had  you  taken  these  Christiana 
to  Swearah,  as  you  promised,  you  would  have  certainly  been 
paid  for  them  all  that  you  could  reasonably  have  asked,  i 
live  in  Swearah,  and  was  obliged  to  make  a  journej^  to  the 
south  upon  urgent  business.  Fortunately,  on  my  return,  I 
met  with  your  partners,  and  bought  their  slaves  from  them. 
The  profit  I  shall  make  on  them  will  more  than  repay  me 
all  the  expenses  of  my  journey.  Tiie  man  Mahommed, 
whom  you  call  your  friend,  has  bought  two  other  Christians. 
He  has  sold  them  to  the  English  Consul.  Having  made 
two  hundred  dollars  by  that  transaction,  he  was  anxious  to 
trade  you  out  of  these  others,  and  make  a  few  hundred  more. 
He  was  deceiving  you  for  the  pur[)ose  of  obtaining  them. 
There  is  but  one  God,  Mahomet  is  his  prophet,  and  you  are 
a  fool ! " 

Bo  Muzem  required  no  further  evidence  in  confirmation 
of  the  truth  of  this  statement.  He  could  not  doubt  that  the 
Moor  was  an  intelligent  man,  who  knew  what  he  was  about 
when  buying  the  slaves.  The  grazier  Mahommed  had  cer- 
tainly purchased  the  two  slaves  spoken  of,  had  acknowledged 
having  carried  them  to  Swearah,  and  was  now  anxious  to 
obtain  the  others. 

All  was  clear  to  him  now ;  and  for  a  moment  he  stood 
mute  and  motionless,  under  a  sense  of  shame  at  his  own 
stupidity. 

This  feeling  was  succeeded  by  one  of  wild  rage  against 
the  man  who  had  so  craftily  outwitted  him. 

Drawing  his  scimitar,  he  rushed  towards  the  grazier,  who, 
having  been  attentive  to  all  that  was  said,  was  not  wholly 
nnpiepared  for  the  attack. 

The  Arabs  never  acquire  much  skill  in  the  use  of  the 
Bcimitar,  and  an  afiair  between  them  with  these  weapons  is 
loon  decided. 

The  contest  between  the  merchant  and  his  antagonist  wai 


MOORISn  JUSTICE.  315 

not  an  exception  to  other  affrays  between  their  countrymen. 
It  was  a  strife  for  hfo  or  death,  witnessed  by  the  slaves  who 
felt  no  sympathy  for  either  of  the  combatants. 

A  mussulman  in  a  quarrel  genonilly  places  more  depend- 
ence on  the  justice  of  his  cause  than  either  on  his  strength 
or  skill ;  and  when  such  is  not  the  case  much  of  his  natural 
prowess  is  lost  to  him. 

Confident  in  the  rectitude  of  his  indignation,  Bo  Mnzem, 
with  his  Mohammedan  ideas  of  fatalism,  was  certain  that 
the  hour  had  not  yet  arrived  for  him  to  die ;  nor  was  he 
mistaken. 

His  impetuous  onset  could  not  be  resisted  by  a  man  un- 
fortified with  the  belief  that  he  had  acted  justly:  and  Ma- 
hommed  the  grazier  was  soon  sent  to  the  ground,  rolling  in 
the  dust  in  the  agonies  of  death. 

"  There  's  one  less  on  'em  anyhow,"  exclaimed  Sailor  Bill, 
as  he  saw  the  Arab  cease  to  live.  "  I  wish  he  had  brought 
brother  Jem  and  Master  Terence  here.  I  wonder  what  he 
has  done  wi'  'em  ?  " 

"  We  should  learn,  if  possible,"  answered  Harry,  "  and  be- 
fore we  get  any  farther  away  from  them.  Suppose  we 
Bpeak  to  the  Moor  about  them  ?  He  may  be  able  to  obtain 
them  in  some  way." 

At  Harry's  request,  the  Krooman  proceeded  to  make  the 
desired  communication,  but  was  prevented  by  Rais  Mourad 
ordering  the  slaves  into  their  places  for  the  purpose  of 
continuing  the  journey  which  this  tragic  incident  had  inter- 
rupted. 

After  cautioning  Bo  Muzem  to  beware  of  the  followers 
of  Mahcmmed,  who  now  \kj  dead  at  their  feet,  the  Moor, 
at  the  head  of  his  kafila,  moved  off  in  the  direr  'ion  of  Mo« 
gador. 


816  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER   LXXXIII. 

THE  Jew's  leap. 

THE  road  followed  by  Rai"  Mourad  on  the  day  aflef 
leaving  Santa  Cruz  was  through  a  country  of  very 
uneven  surface. 

Part  of  the  time  the  kaiila  would  be  in  a  narrow  valley 
by  the  sea-shore,  and  in  the  next  hour  following  a  zigzag 
path  on  the  side  of  some  precipitous  mountain. 

In  such  places  the  kafila  would  have  to  proceed  in  single 
file,  while  the  Moors  would  be  constantly  cautioning  the 
slaves  against  Mling  from  the  backs  of  their  animals. 

Wliile  stopping  for  an  hour  at  noon  for  the  horses  to  rest, 
the  Krooman  tm-ned  over  a  fiat  stone,  and  underneath  it 
found  a  laige  scorpion. 

After  making  a  hole  in  the  sand  about  six  inches  deep, 
and  five  or  six  in  diameter,  he  put  the  reptile  into  it. 

He  then  went  in  search  of  a  few  more  scorpions  to  keep 
the  prisoner  company.  Under  nearly  every  stone  he  turned 
over,  one  or  two  of  these  reptiles  were  found,  all  of  which 
were  cast  into  the  hole  where  he  had  placed  the  first. 

When  he  had  secured  about  a  dozen  within  the  prison  from 
which  they  could  not  escape,  he  began  teasing  them  with  a 
stick. 

Enraged  at  this  treatment  the  reptiles  commenced  a  mor- 
tal combat  among  themselves,  a  sight  which  was  witnes^sed 
by  the  white  slaves  with  about  the  same  interest  as  tliat  be- 
tween the  two  Arali  s  in  the  morning.  In  other  words,  they 
did  not  care  which  got  the  worst  of  it. 

A  battle  between  two  scorpions  would  commence  with 
much  active  skirmishing  on  both  sides,  each  seeking  to  fasten 
its  claws  on  the  other. 

Wlaen  one  of  the  reptiles  would  succeed  in  getting  a  fail 


THE  JEW'S  LEAP.  317 

grip,  its  adversary  would  exhibit  every  disposition  to  surren- 
der, apparently  begging  for  its  life,  but  all  to  no  purjjose,  as 
no  quarter  would  be  given. 

The  champion  would  inflict  the  fatal  sting;  and  the 
unfortunate  reptile  receiving  it  would  die  immediately 
after. 

After  all  the  scorpions  had  been  killed  except  one,  the 
Krooman  himself  finished  the  survivor  with  a  blow  of  his 
stick. 

When  rebuked  by  Harry  for  what  the  latter  regarded  as 
an  act  of  wanton  cruelty,  he  answered  that  it  was  the  duty 
of  every  man  to  kill  scorpions. 

In  the  afternoon  they  reached  a  place  called  the  Jew's 
Leap.  It  was  a  narrow  path  along  the  side  of  a  mountain, 
the  base  of  which  was  washed  by  tlie  sea. 

The  path  was  about  half  a  mile  long  and  not  more  than 
four  or  five  feet  broad.  The  right  hand  side  was  bounded 
by  a  wall  of  rocks,  in  some  places  perpendicular  and  rising 
to  a  height  of  several  hundred  feet. 

On  the  left  hand  side  was  the  sea,  about  four  hundred  feet 
below  the  level  of  the  path. 

There  was  no  hope  for  any  one  who  should  fall  from  this 
path,  —  no  hope  but  heaven. 

Not  a  bush,  tree,  or  any  obstacle  was  seen  to  ofier  the 
slightest  resistance  to  the  downward  course  of  a  falling 
body. 

The  Krooman  had  passed  this  way  before,  and  informed 
his  companions  that  no  one  ever  ventured  on  the  path  in 
wet  weather  ;  that  it  was  at  all  times  considered  dangerous ; 
but  that,  as  it  saved  a  tiresome  journey  of  seven  miles  around 
the  mountain,  it  was  generally  taken  in  dry  weather.  He 
also  told  them  that  the  name  of  "  Jew's  Leap "  was  given 
to  the  precipice,  from  a  party  of  Jews  having  once  been 
forced  over  it. 

It  was  in  the  night-time.     They  had  met  a  numeroua 


818  THE  BOi'  SLAVES. 

party  of  Moors  coming  m  the  opposite  direction.  Neither 
party  could  turn  back,  a  contest  arose,  and  several  on  both 
sides  were  hurled  over  the  precipice  into  the  sea. 

On  this  occasion  as  many  INIoors  as  Jews  had  been  thrown 
from  the  path ;  but  it  had  pleased  the  former  to  give  the 
spot  the  name  of  the  "  Jew's  Leap,"  which  it  still  bears. 

Before  venturing  upon  this  dangerous  road,  Rais  Mourad 
was  careful  to  see  that  no  one  was  coming  from  the  opposite 
direction. 

After  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  hearing  no 
reply,  he  led  the  way,  bidding  his  followers  to  trust  more  to 
their  animals  than  to  themselves. 

As  the  white  slaves  entered  on  the  pass,  two  Moors  were 
left  behind  to  follow  them,  and  when  all  had  proceeded  a 
abort  distance  along  the  ledge,  the  horse  ridden  by  Harry 
lilount  became  frightened.  It  was  a  young  animal,  and 
having  been  reared  on  the  plains  of  the  desert,  was  unused 
to  mountain-road. 

While  the  other  horses  were  walking  along  very  cau- 
tiously, Harry's  steed  suddenly  stopped,  and  refused  to  go 
any  farther. 

In  such  a  place  a  rider  has  good  cause  to  be  alarmed  at 
any  eccentricity  of  behavior  in  the  animal  he  bestrides,  and 
Harry  was  just  preparing  to  dismount,  when  the  animal 
commenced  making  a  retrogade  movement,  as  if  determined 
to  turn  about. 

Harry  was  behind  his  companions,  and  closely  followed 
by  one  of  the  Moors.  The  latter  becoming  alarmed  for  his 
cwn  safety,  struck  the  young  Englishman's  horse  a  blow 
with  his  musket  to  make  it  move  forward. 

The  next  instant  the  hind  legs  of  the  refractory  animal 
were  over  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  and  its  body,  with  the 
weight  of  its  rider  clinging  to  his  neck,  was  about  evenly 
balanced  as  on  the  brink.  The  horse  made  a  violent  strug- 
gle to  avoid  going  over,  with  its  nose  and  fore  feet  laid  closf 


CONCLUSION.  819 

along  the  path,  and  vainly  striving  to  regain  tho  positioB 
from  vehich  it  had  so  imprudently  parted. 

At  this  moment  its  rider  determined  to  make  a  desperate 
exertion  for  liis  life. 

Seizing  the  horse  by  the  ears,  and  drawing  himself  up, 
he  placed  one  foot  on  the  brink  of  the  precipice,  and  then 
sprang  clear  over  the  horse's  head,  just  as  the  animal  relin- 
quished its  hold  !  In  another  instant  the  unfortunate  quad- 
ruped was  precipitated  into  the  sea,  its  body  striking  the 
water  with  a  dull  plunge,  as  if  the  life  had  ah-eady  gone 
out  of  it. 

The  remainder  of  the  ledge  was  traversed  without  any 
difficulty ;  and  after  all  had  got  safely  over,  Harry's  com- 
panions were  loud  hi  congratulating  him  upon  his  narrow 
escape. 

The  youth  remained  silent. 

His  soul  was  too  full  of  gratitude  to  God  to  give  any 
heed  to  the  words  of  man. 


CHAPTER    LXXXIV. 

CONCLUSION. 

ON  the  evening  of  the  second  day  after  passing  thfl 
Jew's  Leap,  Rais  Mourad,  with  his  following,  reached 
the  city  of  IMogador ;  but  too  late  to  enter  its  gates,  which 
were  closed  for  the  night. 

For  a  great  part  of  the  night,  Hany,  Colin,  and  Sailor 
Bill  were  unable  to  sleep. 

They  were  kept  awake  by  the  memory  of  the  sufTeringa 
they  had  endured  in  slavery,  but  more  by  the  anticip»tion 
of  liberty,  which  they  beUeved  to  be  now  near. 


820  THE  BOY  SLAVES. 

They  arose  with  the  sun  call,  impatient  to  enter  the  city, 
and  learn  their  fate.  Rais  Mourad,  knowing  that  no  busi- 
ness could  be  done  until  three  or  four  hours  later,  would  not 
permit  them  to  pass  into  the  gate. 

For  three  hours  they  waited  with  the  greatest  impatience. 
So  strongly  had  their  minds  been  elated  with  the  prospect 
of  getting  free,  that  the  delay  was  creating  the  opposite  ex- 
treme of  despair,  when  they  were  again  elated  at  the  sight 
of  Rais  Mourad  returning  to  them. 

Giving  the  command  to  his  followers,  he  led  the  way  into 
the  city. 

After  passing  through  several  narrow  streets,  on  turning 
a  corner,  tliey  saw  waving  over  the  roof  of  one  of  the  houses 
a  sight  that  filled  them  with  joy  inexpressible.  It  was  the 
flag  of  Old  England  ! 

It  indicated  the  residence  of  the  English  consul.  Ou  see- 
ing it  jdl  three  gave  forth  a  loud  simultaneous  cheer,  and 
hastened  forward,  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  Moorish  men, 
women,  and  children. 

Rais  Mourad  knocked  at  the  gate  of  the  consulate,  which 
was  opened ;  and  the  wliite  slaves  were  ushered  into  the 
courtryard.  At  the  same  instant  two  individuals  came  run- 
ning forth  from  the  house.     They  were  Terence  and  Jim  ! 

A  fine  looking  man  about  fifty  years  of  age,  now  stepped 
forward  ;  and  taking  Harry  and  Colin  by  the  hand,  congrat- 
ulated them  on  the  certainty  of  soon  recovering  their  liberty. 

The  presence  of  Terence  and  Jim  in  the  consulate  at 
Mogador,  was  soon  explained.  The  Arab  grazier,  after  buy- 
ing them,  had  started  immediately  for  Swcarah,  taking  his 
slaves  with  him.  On  bringing  them  to  the  English  consul 
he  was  paid  a  ransom,  and  they  were  at  once  set  free.  At 
the  same  time  he  had  given  his  promise  to  purchase  the 
Other  slaves  and  bring  them  to  Mogador. 

The  consul  made  no  hesitation  in  paying  the  price  that 
had  been  promised  for  Harry,  Colin,  and  Bill ;  but  he  did 


CONCLUSION.  321 

not  consider  himself  justified  in  expendiug  the  money  of  hifl 
griverxijTient  in  the  redemption  of  the  Krooraan,  who  was 
not  ail  English  subject. 

The  poor  fellow  was  overwhelmed  with  despair  at  the 
prospect  of  being  restored  to  a  Hfe  of  slavery. 

His  old  companions  in  misfortune  could  not  remain  tran- 
qu'l  spectators  of  his  grief.  They  promised  lie  should  be 
free.  Each  of  the  middies  had  wealthy  friends  on  whom  he 
could  draw  for  money,  and  they  were  in  hopes  that  some 
English  merchant  in  the  city  would  advance  the  amount. 

They  were  not  disappointed.  On  the  very  next  day  the 
Krooman's  difficulty  was  settled  to  his  satisfaction. 

The  consul  having  mentioned  his  case  to  several  foreign 
merchants,  a  subscription -list  was  opened,  and  the  amount 
necessary  to  the  purchase  of  his  freedom  was  easily  ob- 
tained. 

The  three  mids  were  furnislied  with  plenty  of  everything 
they  required,  and  only  waited  the  arrival  of  some  English 
ship  to  carry  them  back  to  the  shores  of  then-  native  land. 

They  had  not  long  to  w^ait;  for  shortly  after,  the  tall 
masts  of  a  British  man-of-war  threw  theu*  shadows  athwart 
the  waters  of  Mogador  Bay. 

The  three  middies  were  once  more  installed  in  quarters 
that  befitted  them:  while  Sailor  Bill  and  his  brother,  aa 
well  as  their  Krooman  comrade,  found  a  welcome  in  the 
forecastle  of  the  man-of-wtir. 

All  three  of  the  young  officers  rose  to  rank  and  distinc- 
tion in  the  naval  service  of  their  country.  It  was  their  good 
fortune  often  to  come  in  contact  with  each  other,  and  talk 
l:\ughingly  of  that  terrible  time,  no  longer  viewed  with  dread 
or  aversion,  when  all  three  of  them  were  serving  their  ap* 
prenticeship  as  Box  Slaves  m  the  Saara. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
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DAY  AND  TO  $1.00  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
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